


Let's Steal a Librarian

by TanyaReed



Category: Leverage, The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-06-09 08:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 46,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6898078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TanyaReed/pseuds/TanyaReed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When weird things start happening at the Bridgeport Brew Pub, the Leverage crew calls on the Librarians to help them figure it out.  Soon, their lives are all in danger, and they have no idea how to make it home alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was my story for Nanowrimo 2015. I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you have as much fun reading it.
> 
> Oh, the time line is two years after the end of Leverage and towards the end of the first season of the Librarians.

Alec Hardison was having a lazy Sunday morning. He'd wasted most of it watching classic horror movies and playing World of Warcraft. By the time it was almost noon, he was bored of all his regular pastimes and wanted something else to do.

The office was too quiet. With Eliot in the kitchen and Parker out shopping with her friend, Peggy, Hardison had the place all to himself. It had been fun at first, but now the silence was getting to him.

As he sat there contemplating the credits of _Night of the Living Dead_ , he thought about his recent conversation with Nate. Nate had asked if Hardison had gone through the previous owner's junk in the basement yet. Over the past three years, it had become almost a joke with his friends because he always found ways to avoid it. Nate had suggested there might be historical memorabilia from the Brew Pub's past down there, and this had piqued Hardison's interest. Maybe there was something he could make a cool display with.

As he thought about that and he thought about his boredom, he decided that looking at some old junk was better than sitting on his ass staring into space.

He got out of his chair and made his way down to the main floor. There were a handful of patrons eating, either a late breakfast or an early lunch, and Hardison nodded to them as he went across the dining room.

Amy, the waitress they sometimes recruited for their jobs, smiled at him. He smiled back but didn't say anything. Now that he'd made up his mind, he was intent on his mission.

Though it was late morning, the basement was dark. What windows existed down there were covered with grime and almost impossible to see through. Hardison turned on the light with a grimace, on the edge of changing his mind and putting this task off again. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of the old posters or pictures that could be down there waiting for him to find them. As he started down the stairs, an old plastic sign, one he'd noticed before on the rare occasions he hesitated in this part of the basement, caught his eye. He went over and picked it up, gently turning it over to see it said, “Bridgeport Brew Pub” in curly letters. Hardison couldn't help the smile that settled over his face as he carefully set it aside and reached for the box it had been lying on.

As the morning ended and the afternoon unfolded, Hardison became lost in his discoveries. Most of them were boring boxes of papers, but there were enough treasures mixed in to make the whole enterprise worth it.

He had quite a pile of stuff to bring upstairs when he discovered a door he hadn't known existed. It was small, small enough that even someone a foot shorter than he was would have to crouch to enter. The door had been buried behind boxes, and its discovery filled him with curiosity.

He promptly forgot what he was doing, moving aside the last few boxes blocking the door. The lock was a joke, and he didn't even need Parker's skills to get it open in mere seconds. Hardison couldn't understand why someone had even bothered to lock it at all.

When the door popped open, Hardison knelt to peer inside. It was dim and shadowy, and the basement's weak, naked bulb didn't penetrate far into the darkness.

He considered going in without a light but rejected the idea. Who knew what sorts of creepy crawlies could be hiding in there? He needed a flashlight. Luckily, Eliot kept a shelf of emergency supplies near the stairs. Hardison liked to make fun of his friend's need to be prepared, but, in truth, he was grateful for it.

The shelf was so organized, it only took a minute for him to find the flashlight. It was large and bright and probably overkill, but it felt reassuring in Hardison's hand. Sometimes, small, dark spaces made him uneasy. This feeling got worse when coupled with the possibility of dirt and germs.

Hardison paused as he heard the door at the top of the stairs open.

“Hardison?”

“Down here, baby girl.”

He looked up to watch Parker coming down the stairs. She was slim and lithe, and he loved the way she moved. Grace. He couldn't think of any other word for it. Her body always went exactly where she wanted it to, never making a mistake.

“Whatcha doin'?”

“I thought it was finally time I went through this mess.”

“Doesn't sound like fun.” She frowned.

“I found some cool stuff, and check it.” He gestured at the open door.

“A door.”

“Yes.”

“What's in there?” She skipped lightly down the last few stairs to join him.

“I don't know yet. It's too dark. I'm going to use Eliot's light.”

“What if it's gold?” Parker's eyes lit up. “Or maybe diamonds!”

“In the basement of a brew pub?”

“Oh, maybe it will be filled with spiders! Maybe there will be rats!”

Hardison felt his stomach turn over. “Uh...Maybe you should go first.”

Parker grinned at him and snatched the light from his hand. Hardison followed her, feeling slightly manipulated.

“How did shopping with Peggy go?”

“Fine,” she answered, not bothering to turn to look at him.

“Just fine?”

“We had fun. Shopping with her is different than shopping with Sophie.”

Parker bent and peered through the doorway before turning on the light. “Oh!”

“What is it?” He hurried up beside her so he could see what she saw.

It was a small room, not much larger than his bathroom, and it was mostly empty. The only things inside were four pedestals. Each pedestal held an object made of wood.

“Shine your light on one of those.”

The one she chose was an ornately carved box. The characters on it seemed to writhe together.

“Looks old,” he continued, wondering if the box was worth something. Maybe it had been stolen.

“Maybe there's something inside!” Parker said with excitement.

She ducked into the room and, after a second of hesitation, Hardison followed her. He tried not to think about dust mites and rats. By the dust Parker was gleefully tracking through, no one had been in the room for a very long time.

Parker turned to hand him the light. She was in front of the box, but the room was so small that he took it easily. It made crazy shadows as it passed from one hand to the other, and Parker's face glowed briefly.

Hardison stepped forward to join her at the dais. “What's inside?”

Parker reached out and touched the lid. It was a small box, smaller than it looked from the doorway. It could have been someone's jewelry box. Maybe that's what it was, but Hardison doubted it. Up close, he could see that the swirling pattern was actually skeletons. They seemed to move, sliding in and around each other. Hardison had a sudden feeling of anxiety, his muscles knotting up.

“Wait.”

But it was too late. Parker was already opening the top. 

There was a smell, something stronger and deeper than could be explained by that one small box. It stank of dirt and rotten things. Of something Hardison couldn't even name. He coughed and stumbled back. Parker, however, was just peering into the box with a frown.

“I don't see anything.”

He blinked watery eyes. “It's empty?”

“I don't know. I think so.”

This was such a strange answer that he fought off his nausea and shined the light on the box. The outside of the box lit up more than he would have liked, given the skeletons, but the inside of the box remained pitch black. He couldn't see sides or a bottom, just a black emptiness.

“Parker,” he said, his voice slightly strained, “I think we should get out of here.”

“Are we taking the box?”

“No. Definitely not.”

“How about the other stuff?” She waved a dainty, slim fingered hand around the room.

“No.”

“Why not?”

He reached over and flipped the cover on the small box closed. The smell quickly dissipated, but his feelings of the creeps did not.

“They're evil, girl. Evil.”

“Evil?”

“Come on. Let's just get out of here and forget these are even down here.”

She shrugged, but her bright eyes darted around the room in curiosity. “Okay.”

XXX

Eliot Spencer was softly humming to himself as he experimentally dropped a few more leaves into his soup. The song was one he hadn't been able to get out of his head for days, and he'd decided to stop fighting and just go with it.

The staff worked around him, politely asking him advice and getting him to taste and look at things. It was a slow day and, besides the after church crowd, the feeling was soft and unhurried. This was the main reason he mostly experimented Sundays. The rest of the time, the kitchen was hopping, and, when he was there, he was doing as much cooking as supervising.

He was about to taste his soup to see if it needed more seasoning when he froze. An odd feeling went over him, as if every hair on his body wanted to stand on end. The back of his neck prickled, and every instinct he had screamed danger.

Slowly, Eliot turned around, trying to ascertain what the danger was. The kitchen looked exactly the same. His crew was busily performing the day's tasks. There was a small trickle of laughter here and a soft conversation there, but everything was orderly.

In the next room, Eliot could hear the clinking of dishes and the rattle of ice. Nothing was out of the ordinary. 

Despite that, the feeling of wrongness was enough to set his teeth on edge. Eliot put his spoon down beside the stove and went out into the main room. His eyes scanned the few diners and Amy, who was filling a couple of glasses.

As soon as it came, the creepy feeling left, but Eliot still stood there, his muscles clenched.

“Is there something wrong?” Amy asked, the concern plain in her voice.

“Did you see or hear anything unusual?”

“Nothing.”

The sudden sound of voices announced the arrival of Parker and Hardison just before they came in from the small hallway that led to their bathrooms and the basement. Both of them were covered in dust, and Hardison looked a little freaked out. Parker, on the other hand, looked excited. Eliot didn't know which was worse.

“Where were you?” he demanded shortly. 

“In the basement,” Hardison answered without further explanation.

“We found a weird box in a hidden room. It felt funny. Tingly on my fingers.”

Against his better judgment, Eliot asked, “What?”

“I think we should just forget it's down there,” Hardison told him. “Close and lock the door and forget about it”

“What door?” Eliot felt as if he were reading a book with a page missing.

“The one in the basement,” Parker supplied cheerfully. 

“Okay, either you two have got to start making sense, or I'm going back in the kitchen.”

“What aren't you getting? There's a door in the basement. We opened it and found some creepy ass stuff, including an evil skeleton box,” Hardison said.

“An evil box?” Eliot scoffed. “You been drinking?”

“You don't believe me? Go look for yourself.”

Since it provided the opportunity to mock Hardison, Eliot was tempted, but he forgot about the box when there was a huge crash from the kitchen.

Rushing back in, he discovered the cooking staff all standing around with their mouths hanging open. There were shattered dishes and pots and pans scattered all around. The broken remains of a shelf, one that Eliot had been positive was both strong and secure, lay amongst the wreckage.

“What happened here?”

“It just collapsed,” one of the braver workers—Tracy, who mostly chopped vegetables and did other small bits of prep work—told him.

“Collapsed?”

“Folded in on itself,” Grayson, the chef under Eliot, the one who did most of the supervising when Eliot wasn't there, confirmed.

“Does anybody know why?” Nobody answered, so Eliot knelt to examine the mess. He couldn't see anything amiss. “All right, well, clean this up. Everything here can be replaced.” He eyed the loose glass. “Anybody hurt?”

There was a chorus of negatives. That was something at least.

“What's going on?” Hardison asked from the door.

“An accident. Nothing important.”

He took the scene in and nodded. “I guess I'd better order some stuff.”

“I guess you'd better.”

XXX

One Week Later

Sophie Devereaux paused in front of the Bridgeport Brew Pub for just an instant. The wind blew cold down the neck of her long coat, and she shivered and put up the collar. She thought about all the good times she'd had behind those doors and about how she sometimes missed it now that she'd become an almost completely honest member of society. It helped that once in awhile Nate looked the other way when Parker, Eliot, and Hardison asked her to come in on a job.

That was the only time she became different people now. The surprising thing was she didn't even mind. Though Sophie Devereaux hadn't been her real name, it was the one she'd slipped into the most easily. She'd lived in Sophie's skin for years and, as the years went by, the two of them started to merge until they were the same person. She didn't realize this until she suddenly found herself a part of a highly unconventional family, bound by a shared search for justice and, though they were reluctant to admit it, love. They knew her as Sophie. Even after they knew her real name, they called her Sophie. At first, she'd thought it was the shell that went with the name that they loved. It took her years to realize it was the person underneath.

Because Sophie Devereaux had come to mean being loved and accepted for who she really was, she'd let go of the other name, the name that hadn't really fit anymore, and become Sophie Devereaux permanently.

Thinking of the five years she's spent as part of the Leverage team made her smile, and she was still smiling as she went inside.

She was glad she and Nate had decided to stay in Portland. The original decision had been made so she wouldn't have to give up her acting students but, in the end, it was good just to be able to drop in on her friends whenever she wanted.

“Sophie!” Parker ambushed her at the door. The young thief was smiling widely and her eyes were shining. 

“Hello, Parker. I've come for lunch. What's on the menu?”

“Chili. You should definitely have Eliot's chili.”

“Where is Eliot?”

“He's playing in the kitchen.”

Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Playing?”

“Throwing different things in a pot to see what comes out.” She shrugged. “Do you want to see him?”

“Actually, I'd like some company if the three of you aren't busy.”

“Sounds great. Be right back.” With that, Parker rushed off towards the kitchen, presumably to find the others.

With a slight, fond shake of her head, Sophie went to find a seat. She let the hustle and bustle of the bar surround her, enjoying the activity. As she sat waiting for either Parker or a waitress, she closed her eyes to create a character for the moment. Now that she was mostly legit, she kept in practice with little games like this, games that put her in another woman's head. Karen, she decided. Her name was Karen, and she was a wealthy, lonely, recently divorced woman looking for someone to help her feel alive again.

She opened her eyes and looked around the room, seeing it from Karen's point of view. Which of these men would the divorcée consider worth her while? Her choices were less than spectacular.

There was an older guy in the corner, nursing a beer despite the fact that it was barely noon. He was balding and sporting a bad comb over. His eyes were already bleary. He was not the type of man Karen was looking for.

Besides him, there were only two other men sitting by themselves. One had a ring and screamed happily married. The other showed some promise. He was relatively good looking and well dressed enough to put Karen at ease. Unfortunately, he seemed to have an oddly intimate relationship with his cell phone.

Sophie's eyes did another search of the bar as Karen and landed on Eliot coming towards her. For a moment, she let herself see Eliot as Karen would. He was well built and attractive, giving off a sense of easy grace that spoke of the many things he could do well. She knew the normally harsh lines of his face often softened when he talked to a woman or a child, and this would definitely speak to a woman who'd been hurt as severely as Karen had.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” Eliot demanded, taking the chair across from her. 

“Bad day?” she asked pleasantly.

“Bad week,” he growled.

“Really?” She let go of Karen completely and gave him her full attention. “What's going on?”

“It's like we're cursed.” He leaned forward.

“That's because we are,” Hardison interrupted as he and Parker arrived at the table.

“Cursed?”

“We have a ghost,” Parker added.

“We're not cursed, damn it. And there's no ghost,” Eliot said firmly. “It's just bad luck.”

Sophie raised her eyebrows at him curiously.

“Some strange accidents,” he explained. “Broken dishes, falling pictures, the stove caught on fire, that kind of thing.”

“Things jumping off shelves and attacking people,” Hardison added, his voice a little high. “People pushed down when there's no one there. A broken window.”

“I think the ghost wants to play,” Parker said seriously.

“Play? We'll be playing when a knife flies through the air and slits our throats.”

“You're both overreacting.” Eliot tried to speak over them.

Sophie listened to them bicker in fond amusement before cutting in with, “Where do you think this curse came from?”

“There is no curse.”

“Oh, there's a curse,” Hardison argued.

“Ghost. It's a ghost.”

Eliot glared at Parker. “It's not a ghost.” To Sophie, he said, “Hardison found a box in the basement he thinks is possessed.”

“Excuse me. A creepy ass box. Creepy ass.” Hardison looked indignant.

“It's really old,” Parker said.

Interested, Sophie asked, “Can I see it?”

“Hardison wouldn't let me bring it up. He said it was evil.”

“Evil,” he agreed.

“Cursed, possessed, and evil?”

“I'm telling you, this smell came out of it like you wouldn't believe. It was rank.”

“Don't forget that it had no bottom,” Parker put in.

“No bottom?” Sophie studied Parker's face. “You mean...?”

“None. Nada.”

“She's exaggerating,” Eliot butted in before she could say more. “Can we change the subject?”

Parker leaned towards Sophie and whispered loudly, “I'll tell you later.”

“So, where's Nate?” Eliot asked forcefully.

“Working.” After retiring from Leverage, Nate had started freelancing for security companies. He was both busy and sober, and he was happier than Sophie had seen him since before Sam's death.

“On a Sunday?”

“It's for Rangeman. Their office is always open.”

“Rangeman? From New Jersey?”

“You've heard of them?”

Eliot was about to answer when Parker interrupted. “Guys...” There was an odd note to her voice.

“What is it, Parker?”

She pointed, and Sophie followed her finger. A few feet away, one of the chairs had risen to a height slightly above that of its table. Sophie's first thought was that it was some kind of joke.

“Hardison?”

“Eliot, if you're doing that, I'm going to punch your face in,” was Hardison's answer.

“It's not me, man. Why would I...” Eliot trailed off as the chair suddenly hurtled through the air towards them. “Down. Everybody down.”

There were screams around the room as Sophie and the others dropped to the floor, ducking behind their table. The chair smashed against the wall, raining down splinters and sharp shards of wood. 

“Is that an accident?” Hardison demanded. “Is that bad luck?”

Eliot's mouth was open in an uncharacteristic expression of surprise.

Parker peered out from under the table. “I wonder if it's going to throw another one.”

Sophie was still feeling a little shocked and breathless. “Something strange is definitely going on here.”

“So, what do we do?”

“I know someone. He should be able to help.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Come on, Stone. You've got to have more in you than that,” Eve Baird said, eyeing her charge as he pounded on the bag hanging from the ceiling. “Pretend the bag just destroyed the Mona Lisa or something. Hit it like you're in a Christmas Eve bar brawl.”

Stone stopped punching and looked at her incredulously.

“What?”

“Is that supposed to be motivating?”

“It's not?”

“Not really.”

“You could pretend it's Dulaque's head.”

Over the past six months, the two of them had taken to using the gym together. It was a good way of working out the stress of the job, and his fighting skills had been improving.

“Or Jones. Do you know what he did today?”

“Knowing Jones, something annoying.”

Her phone rang, but she hesitated, a curious part of her wanting to know what Jones had done to set Stone off this time.

He waved at her stuff on the floor. “Are you gonna get that?”

“Sure.” She picked up her phone and looked at the screen. The number didn't look familiar. Frowning, she answered, “Baird.”

“Eve Baird?” The voice was pleasant and softly accented.

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Flynn Carson gave me this number.”

Eve straightened. “Flynn. You talked to Flynn?”

“I have a little problem he said you might be able to help me with.”

“Problem? What kind of problem?”

The annoyed look on Stone's face was replaced with curiosity as he raised his eyebrows at her.

“Of the kind people usually contact the Librarian for.”

“Monsters? Magical items? Dragons?”

She sounded amused when she replied, “Maybe, definitely, and I don't think so.”

“Okay, then. We'll come and check it out. Where are you?”

“The Bridgeport Brew Pub. Ask for the owner. Flynn said you're here in Portland, so you should be able to find us.”

“The Bridgeport Brew Pub?” It didn't sound familiar to her. She was going to say so when she happened to look at Stone's face. His skin had paled and his expression was wary. “Yeah, I think we can find it. We'll be there in about an hour.”

“Thank you, Ms. Baird.”

Eve had hung up before she realized the mysterious caller had never given her name.

“The Bridgeport Brew Pub?” Stone asked, his voice harsh.

“Why does that mean something to you, and is this going to be a problem?”

“I have a cousin who works at the Bridgeport Brew Pub. I've know since we got here, and—for six months—I've managed to avoid it.”

“You don't like your cousin?” Eve asked, puzzled.

“That's not it. He's my best friend. Has been since before we went to school, but I told him what I told everyone else. He doesn't know about this.” Stone jabbed a finger at his temple. “If I go over there as a Librarian...”

Eve put a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Maybe it's time to come clean, at least to somebody. Your best friend might be a good place to start.”

“He wouldn't understand. Him more'n anybody. You don't know Eliot.”

“What if you're not giving him enough credit?”

“I don't know if I can do this, Eve.”

“Sure you can. You're a Librarian. You've faced monsters and certain death.”

He grimaced. “Sometime's family's worse.”

She sighed, thinking of her father. “Don't I know it. So, how do you want to play this?”

Revealing the part of himself that he'd kept hidden had to be Stone's own choice. She wouldn't force him. For him, it was a matter of trust, and he had to decide if he could trust his cousin with something he thought was too fragile to share. If Eve and Lamia hadn't shown up six months before in that bar in Oklahoma, he'd probably still be pretending to be just a simple labourer.

He thought before he gave his answer. He thought so long, Eve was almost convinced he wouldn't answer at all.

Eventually, he said quietly, “I'm going to do my job.”

She acknowledged how hard she knew that was for him with a brief squeeze to his shoulder before she dropped her hand. “Okay, then. Let's go find the others.”

XXX

The Bridgeport Brew Pub was housed in a large brick building that was almost indistinguishable from the buildings around it. Now that Jake had decided to let his past and his present collide, he found he was oddly calm. He didn't think he'd be running home to announce his change of vocation to his family any time soon, but he thought he could live with Eliot knowing.

Maybe he should have told him years ago. After all, while Jake didn't know any of the details, he knew how Eliot had been spending the last twenty years. He knew his cousin had started as a soldier before being moved to Special Forces; he knew that Eliot had done so well there, he'd been moved to an elite service where he did things for the government that it would do anything to keep hidden; he knew, finally, that Eliot had branched off into freelancing, working for both the government and the criminals that fought against it. Now, of all things, Eliot was head chef at the Bridgeport Brew Pub, but Jake was pretty sure that wasn't all he was.

The inside of the brew pub looked much as Jake had expected. It was large with tables separating the space into sections. Because it was lunch time, there was a good crowd. Three or four waitresses threaded through the room, bringing food, water, or menus.

“Excuse me,” Baird said to the nearest passing waitress. “Can you direct me to the owners?”

“They're sitting over there.” She waved a hand towards a table by the wall before continuing on her way.

“Okay, then.”

There were four people at the table the waitress had indicated. Two were women, one dark and one light. One of the men was African American, and he towered over the others at the table. The person who caught Jake's eye, however, was the second man. A man with a face so similar to Jake's that they could have been brothers. He sat slouched in his chair in apparent ease, but there was a tightness to him that said he could be in sudden motion before a person even blinked.

Jake and Eliot had been friends for as long as Jake could remember. Their mothers had been sisters, twins and like two peas in a pod, and were always together, smiling and laughing. Of course, that was before Eliot's mama died and Jake's father took to the drink.

Growing up, the two of them had been inseparable. All the best trouble Jake got into had been with Eliot. When Eliot left to join the army, he'd tried to convince Jake to go with him. Jake knew where his duty lie, so he'd stayed behind, but the two of them had kept in touch through everything. 

The dark haired woman looked over and saw them approaching. She said something to the others, and Jake saw the recognition in Eliot's face when he glanced up. 

“Hello,” Baird said, offering her hand to Eliot, who was closest. “We're the Librarians.”

Eliot's gaze slid from Jake to Baird, and he smiled his most charming smile. “Eliot Spencer.”

He stood and took her hand, shaking it briefly. “And these are Hardison, Parker, and Sophie Devereaux.”

“Eve Baird. Nice to meet you.” She indicated the others. “Ezekiel Jones, Cassandra Cillian, and I believe you know Jacob Stone.”

“Eliot,” the one named as Parker asked, “why does that guy have your face?”

“He's my cousin. What I don't understand is what he's doing here. With them.” 

“I'm a Librarian.” It wasn't as hard to say the words as he thought it would be.

Eliot accepted this with a small nod. “Not surprising. Hardison, meet your equal. What you know about how things work, he knows about the past.”

Stunned, Jake just stared at him. 

“Don't look so surprised.” Eliot clapped him roughly on the shoulder. “Did you think you could hide it from me? I knew. I just didn't care.”

“What's happening?” Parker sounded puzzled.

Eliot scowled. “Never mind, Parker. So, Jake, tell me how this Librarian thing works.”

Jake was still reeling from finding out Eliot had known his secret all these years. “Well, uh...”

“There's magic in the world,” Cassandra piped up. “It's our job to save people from all the bad stuff.”

“And to protect the good stuff,” Jones added.

“Magic is real?” Parker's eyes got wide, and a grin spread over her face.

“Magic is real,” Cassie assured her.

Sophie had remained mostly silent through the whole exchange, her expression rather blank. Her eyes, however, showed she was taking it all in.

“Of course magic is real,” she said, also getting to her feet. “That's how I met the Librarian.”

“So, what's happened? Why do you need us?” Baird forced everyone back to the point.

Sophie looked at Hardsion. “Hardison?”

Finding all eyes suddenly on him, he cleared his throat and said, “Uh...well...Me and Parker found something in the basement. A box with some carving on it.” He looked at Sophie, who nodded. “Creepy. Skeletons that seem to move. Parker opened the box, and weird stuff started happening.”

Jake could tell he was choosing his words carefully. Maybe he was afraid he wouldn't be believed. 

“It's a ghost,” Parker said cheerfully. She was still staring at Jake quizzically. “Can I touch your face?”

“Touch my...?”

“Parker!” Eliot gave her a dirty look, but she ignored him.

“Hey, can we get back to the evil box, please?” Hardison broke in.

“There's been some accidents,” Eliot explained smoothly. “Nothing too serious. Falling shelves. Broken glass. People tripping. Until today.”

“Today?” Baird asked.

It was Sophie who answered. “We were attacked by a chair.”

“A chair?”

“A flying chair.” She said this as if she knew how ridiculous it sounded.

“Almost took my head off,” Hardison confirmed.

Jake looked to Eliot, who nodded, so he asked, “Can we look at the box?”

“You mean we have to go back down there?” Hardison didn't seem too keen on the idea.

“Come on.” Parker pinched him. “We didn't get to see the other stuff.”

“Maybe that's a good thing.”

Parker linked her arm with his, and he grumbled under his breath before making a gesture and heading for the back of the room. Sophie, Baird, Cassie, and Jones followed, and Jake trailed at the back with Eliot.

“You know I was here, didn't you?”

“Here?”

“In Portland.”

“Oh.” Eliot ran a hand through his long hair. “I heard rumours. Nothing concrete. I figured you were working on an article or something. I didn't tell anyone back home.”

“You know about the articles?”

“I always knew.”

“You didn't say anything?”

“I knew you didn't want me to know.”

“Did anybody else know?”

Eliot shook his head, knocking a lock of dark hair into his eyes. “I don't think so. You were good at pretending.”

“So, you weren't surprised to see me?”

“Oh, I was. I had no idea you were a Librarian. It looks good on you.”

“Thanks.”

They lapsed into silence as they reached the stairs leading down to the basement. The light was already on below, and they could hear Hardison talking.

“I was down here going through boxes,” he was saying as Jake and Eliot joined the others at the bottom of the stairs.

“Wait a minute,” Eliot spoke up. “You were doing actual work?”

Hardison just threw him a look and continued, “I found this door.”

The door was small. It came up to about Jake's chest, and he wasn't a tall man. It was just an ordinary door, made of pressed wood with a cheap doorknob.

“Was it locked?” he asked.

“Yeah, but not good.”

“So, you went in?” Cassie asked.

“I went and got a light. Parker came down, and we went in.”

“I went first,” Parker supplied, “because of the rats.”

“Rats?” Baird asked. “There were rats?”

Hardison shrugged. “I just saw the box.”

“Okay. Stone, you and I will go in and check it out. You guys stay out here until we're sure it's safe.”

“It's just a box,” Eliot said, crossing his arms.

Baird gave him her most quelling look, though he didn't seem to be quelled. Jake was impressed. He didn't know too many people who could meet that gaze.

“Stone?”

He went to join her at the door, and the others stood back slightly. Carefully, Baird turned the knob.

“Wait.” Suddenly, Sophie was beside them. “You'll need this.”

She handed Baird a powerful flashlight, and Baird nodded her thanks. Instead of stepping back with the others, Sophie stayed beside Jake. She was close enough to brush against him, and he noticed she smelled nice.

“Maybe I should go upstairs and guard the basement door,” Ezekiel suggested.

“Guard it from what?” Baird glanced at him.

“Something sinister.”

She rolled her eyes. “Stay where you are, Jones.”

“Are you scared?” Parker asked abruptly, turning her attention from Jake's face.

“No,” Jones scoffed. “Of course not. I'm a Librarian.”

“Okay, I'm opening the door.” 

Baird slowly pulled the door towards her and shone the light around the small room. The walls were simple painted gyproc, and the floors were scuffed and wooden. Four small pedestals took up the bulk of the space. As Hardison had described, each pedestal contained a carved wooden object.

Baird hesitated, waiting for something unusual to happen. When it didn't, she ducked low and stepped into the room. Since nothing attacked her, Jake followed. He studied the objects as Baird's flashlight landed on them one by one. Two of them were figures, one a man and one a beast. Another was a large bowl, one big enough to hold a bag of Jones's microwave popcorn. The final object was a box. It was a lot smaller than he'd been picturing. He stepped forward, into the beam of light, and touched the lid.

“Hardison said it emitted a foul odor when Parker opened it.”

Jake glanced behind him to see that Sophie had followed them. She was looking around the room curiously.

“Noted.”

He turned back to the box and touched the top. His eyes were drawn to the writhing skeletons, and he could almost feel them moving beneath his fingers.

“Do you know what these are?” Baird asked him.

“No. I've never seen them before.”

“Maybe we should send a picture to Jenkins.”

Without waiting for an answer, she quickly snapped pictures with her phone then dialed. 

While he absently listened to Baird on the phone, Jake ran his fingers over the carvings. They were quite detailed.

“Yeah, so we found this box that may or may not have magical properties,” Baird was saying. “The owners tell us strange things have been happening since they stumbled on it. Would you have a look?...Did you get it?...What do you meant, don't touch it?”

At the alarm in Baird's voice, Jake snatched his hand away, but it was already too late.


	3. Chapter 3

Cassie stood back with the pub owners as Colonel Baird had instructed. Despite their circumstances, Ezekiel looked bored, but both Parker and Hardison were watching with interest. One looked excited and the other looked anxious. They stood very close together, and their comfort level showed this wasn't unusual for them.

The other woman peered into the small room, even though Baird told everyone to stay back. The last member of their party, the one who looked so much like Jacob it was eerie, hovered near the door. His hands were in his pockets, but there was a tightness in the lines of his body that showed he thought he should be in there with them. He was kind of intense, and he made Cassie nervous.

“Soph?” he asked quietly.

She turned to look at him, and they exchanged something without words. Eliot gave a brief nod, and Sophie ducked in after Jacob.

Cassie heard her say, “Hardison said it emitted a foul odor when Parker opened it.”

Curious, Cassie fought the urge to get closer. She really wanted to see what was going on, but she knew if she did everyone else probably would, too. Sometimes, there were reasons to go against Baird's orders, but curiosity wasn't a good enough one.

“What do you mean don't touch it?” Colonel Baird asked sharply.

Her words were still hanging in the air when the small door slammed shut. Startled, Cassie took a quick step back. Eliot rushed forward and wrestled with it, trying to get it open. He banged himself against it several times, his body making an awful thumping noise.

With a growl, he flung himself at the door one more time. Cassie watched in horror as he went right through it. The door didn't splinter or crack. It didn't break. Eliot went through as if the door weren't even there; it swallowed him whole.

“What the hell?” Hardison cursed.

Cassie hurried forward, not sure what to do but sure she wanted to do something. “Colonel Baird? Colonel Baird?”

The door glowed briefly and then disappeared. She stopped and gaped at what was now an unbroken wall.

“Shit!” Hardison cursed again. “Eliot! Eliot!” 

“Where's Sophie?” Parker asked, sounding puzzled.

“Jenkins.” Cassandra fought to remain cool headed. “We've got to call Jenkins.”

“Who's Jenkins?”

“He's like Google,” Ezekiel explained, “only for old stuff.”

“Are they in the wall?” Parker asked.

“It's not usually that easy,” Ezekiel told her, stepping up beside Cassie to peer at the wall.

As if she hadn't even heard him, she said, “I'll go get a saw.”

“It won't work.” When she didn't even pause, he repeated, “I'm telling you, it won't...Why doesn't anybody ever listen to me?”

“Are they in there?” Hardison came up and pressed his ear to the wall.

“I don't know,” Cassie admitted, “but Jenkins will.”

She took out her phone and quickly dialed.

“Colonel Baird?” Jenkins answered, his usually bored voice sounding concerned.

“No, it's Cassie.”

“Do you know where Colonel Baird is at the moment?”

“That's what I was calling about. A wall ate her. She went in to look at the box...”

“Yes. She sent me a picture of it. Someone—I'm guessing either Jones or Stone—touched it, and I lost contact.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“Nothing good.”

Cassie bit her lip, thinking of all the things that could mean, especially coming from Jenkins.

Jenkins continued, “The items they found are ancient. Ancient and cursed. If anyone but the intended users touch it, then...”

“Cursed?”

Hardison looked up from where he was tapping on the wall. “See?” he said. “A curse.”

“What kind of curse?” Cassie asked. 

“A bad one, but I've never heard of it swallowing anyone. There may be something more going on here.”

“What do we do?”

“The four items—bowl, box, man,beast—are a matched set. Each piece is harmless on its own, but together they are very powerful. The box is the cornerstone. They are all linked through it. Everything remains dormant until it is touched. The curse is to prevent it from being touched by the wrong hands.”

“What happens if the wrong person touches it?” Her stomach lurched.

“Any number of things, Miss Cillian, and none of them are pleasant. The accidents these people have been experiencing are the mildest form of the curse's manifestation. In it's worst form...well, even I don't know the answer.”

“They're not behind the wall are they?” she asked, watching as Parker approached lugging a heavy looking jigsaw.

“No, they are not.”

“Where are they? How do we get them back?”

“Simple answer is, you don't.”

“What?”

“Well, there might be a way. It's tricky.”

“We'll do anything.”

“You'll have to use the Storybook.”

XXX

There was no answer to her question, so Eve demanded, “Jenkins?”

Suddenly, the door behind them slammed shut, and Eve's light went out.

“Stone?”

“I'm okay. What happened to the light?”

“Sophie?”

“I'm fine. What's happening?” The voice was calm and even, with no hints of fear.

Before she could answer, there was a hard thump on the door. It came again and again, in quick succession.

Puzzled, she turned in that direction, though she couldn't see a thing. There was a soft grunt, and something hit her hard. Eve stumbled backwards but didn't fall, mostly because her body ran into something solid on the other side.

“Eve, what are you doing?” Stone asked, grabbing her instinctively.

“Sorry,” a voice similar to his said, and another pair of hands tried to straighten her. Caught in a Spencer-Stone sandwich, she tried to bat their hands away.

“Eliot?” came a voice out of the dark.

“You okay, Soph?”

“Slightly disoriented.”

“What happened to the light?”

Eve tapped him with the flashlight. “It went out when the door closed.”

There was the sound of movement before Sophie spoke again. “I can't find the door. It's smooth here, as if there isn't one.”

“You're kidding.” Eliot loosed Eve and, she assumed, joined Sophie.

“Uh...Baird,” Stone said behind her. “Baird?”

“What?”

“The box.”

“What about it?” She glanced over her shoulder to see that it had started to glow a pale, sickly color. 

“Where's that light coming from?” Sophie asked as the rest of the objects began to also glow. For the first time, Eve noticed they were all covered with the same skeletons.

Now that there was light, Eve could see the door really had vanished. Not only that, the gyproc on the other three walls had been replaced by dirt.

The glow from the objects steadily intensified, drowning the room in radiance. Eve instinctively moved closer to Stone, ready to defend him. She saw the same battle readiness in Eliot as he stepped closer to Sophie, and, with a jolt, Eve realized he was more than just a brew pub chef. He caught her eye and, reading her expression, gave a slight nod.

“I wonder if they're supposed to do that,” Sophie continued, still sounding calm and seemingly oblivious to the sudden tension in the room.

The box started to rattle and vibrate, and Eve took a step back, her hand drawing Stone with her. The vibrations got more and more violent, so violent that she was afraid the thing would explode.

“Everybody stay back,” she instructed.

The shaking box fell off its dais, and she winced, sure it would break. It didn't. It just rattled and shook some more until the top flew open.

Eve backed towards the wall, still pulling Stone with her. She kept backing until she felt a body behind her. It was warm, solid, and muscular, so she guessed it was Eliot.

“Watch it,” he said gruffly, though there was no menace in it.

She didn't answer. She was too busy watching the box sink into the floor and start to expand. The hazy black bottom sharpened and formed into stairs.

“Question. Do we stay in the room with no way out or do we go down the dark, creepy stairs and confront something that probably wants to kill us?”

“Is there a third option?” Sophie asked.

Eliot snorted, and Stone frowned.

“I'm up for another option,” Eve told her when no one else spoke. The silence continued, so she added, “Okay, then. Creepy death stairs it is.”

She dropped the useless light and reached for her gun.

“You're going down?” Eliot asked.

“If there's danger, I'd rather go meet it than let it trap us in this closet.”

Without waiting to see if the others would follow, she held her gun ready and approached the stairs. She was cautious, ready for any signs of someone coming up.

Her senses were alert, so she felt Eliot behind her, even though his approach was silent. She didn't acknowledge him as she slowly started down the steps.

They were dimly lit, and she could just barely see a small room at the bottom. There didn't appear to be any signs of movement.

“Do you see anything?” Stone asked.

“Just a room.”

The room was a dull gray and slightly bigger than the one she'd just left. Two arched doorways, without doors, led from it, and there were figures painted on the walls. As Eve neared the bottom, she recognized the same skeletons that were on the objects. They were bigger and seemed more menacing.

“Do you deal with this kind of weird shit every day?” Eliot asked quietly.

“Pretty much.”

She thought both he and Sophie were taking magic very well for people who weren't either Librarians or magic users. Then again, Sophie knew Flynn, and Eliot didn't seem the type to ever be fazed by much.

Eve briefly looked back to see he was standing close behind her. Sophie and Stone were still at the top of the stairs, peering down at them. 

When her foot touched the floor at the bottom of the stairs, five cowled figures came through one of the archways. She lifted her gun and watched them closely. Their hoods were pulled low over their faces, and their hands were in their sleeves. With the shadows, not one bit of skin showed. Eliot shifted beside her.

The foremost figure stopped in front of her with the other four neatly arranged behind.

“You will come with us,” he said.

“I don't know that we will.”

“You have no choice.”

“Oh, there's always a choice.” She didn't lower her gun, but the speaker didn't even seem to notice it.

“This grows tedious.”

He turned to the left and made a sharp gesture. Arms dropped out of four pairs of sleeves to reveal pale hands. Though the choreographed gesture was simple, it seemed menacing.

Suddenly, the room started filling with smoke. It came pouring out of the mouths of the skeletons, thick and dark. It was heavy and clogged up her lungs. She coughed and lowered her gun because her eyes watered too much to see.

There were sounds of flesh hitting flesh, and Eve closed her eyes to orient herself. The fighting noises were coming from her right. A hand touched her arm, and she lashed out, her eyes still closed.

“Baird?” Stone called, but she didn't have time to answer.

Her fist connected with something that was solid and covered with soft cloth. The grip on her arm lightened, so she purposefully bumped the body with her own. It felt like hitting a wall.

“What the hell are you?” she choked out.

The smoke was becoming thicker, and it was so hard to breathe, she was seeing spots in front of her eyes. 

Frustrated, she brought her knee up sharply and was satisfied when the person holding her gasped and let go. Pressing her advantage, she punched where his face would be if he doubled over. Bone cracked, but it wasn't hers.

Her adversary cried out, and she pushed him out of the way, coughing violently as she tired to clear her lungs.

“Back,” she forced out, hoping Eliot could understand her. “Eliot, go back.”

“I'm a little busy here,” he grunted, his own coughing mangling his words.

Eve couldn't answer him. She doubled over, clutching her chest, as a wave of dizziness swept over her. 

She fought it off, trying to straighten because she had to protect the others. The effort made her stumble sideways. Her legs tangled together, and she went down. She was out before she even hit the floor.

XXX

Hardison was still having a hard time believing magic was real. A curse was one thing but real, Gandalf the Gray magic was something else. Parker seemed to be taking it a lot better than he was, and she jumped into the back of the Librarians car without question, her face glowing despite the fact that Eliot and Sophie had been swallowed by a wall. Hardison followed, feeling as if he'd been beaned by a two by four.

On the way to the Library, Parker asked lots of questions. Cassandra answered them willingly, her hands animatedly punctuating her points. Hardison absorbed the information, wondering how he'd never heard of the Library or what it did.

When they entered the Annex, the Library's interface, Hardison's eyes widened in admiration. It was amazing. The feeling of solemnity and age in the room was almost overwhelming, and it made him want to hold his breath. Though he was known for his love of modern technology, he also loved learning and gadgets, and both were here in abundance. He wanted to touch everything. At the same time, he was afraid to touch anything.

“This is where it all happens,” Ezekiel announced, slouching into the nearest chair.

“Jenkins! Jenkins!” Cassandra called.

“I'm right here, Miss Cillian. There's no need to yell.”

An older man, in his sixties or maybe seventies, came in. He had an expression much like Eliot's normal one, and he was wearing a suit. He was holding a very old, brown book in his hands.

Ezekiel sat up straight. “The Storybook.”

“Yes, Mr. Jones. The Storybook.”

“How do we use it to find Jacob and Colonel Baird?” Cassie went towards him and held out her arms. Jenkins searched her face before placing the book in them.

“First, I think I should tell you a little about the artifacts that sucked them in.”

“Sucked them in?” Parker asked. “Like through a straw?”

“You, I don't know. And I don't know you, either.”

He seemed like a perfectly harmless old man, but when Jenkins met Hardison's eyes, it felt as if he were reading every thought Hardison had ever had.

“It's all right, Jenkins.” Cassandra shifted the book so she could put her hand on his arm. “They had friends that got sucked up, too.”

“Really?”

“There was a door, then there was a wall,” Parker told him.

“Indeed.” He seemed to think about this. “Four objects. Four people.”

“This is significant?” Cassandra frowned.

“Maybe...It just could be. You see, the objects aren't just objects. The spirits that infuse them were once people. The people were killed—willingly--to make the artifacts.”

“So, what does that mean?” Ezekiel asked, finally seeming to take interest.

“It's possible that the power in the artifacts is waning. To renew it, whoever took Colonel Baird, Mr. Stone, and the others might want four new sacrifices.

“Sacrifices?” Hardison stepped forward.

“Like a cross?” Parker looked thoughtful. “Sophie died once before. Is she going to die again?”

Cassandra threw Hardison a puzzled look.

“She didn't die,” he clarified. “She faked her death. It was fake, Parker. Fake.”

“But she had a funeral and everything.”

“She wasn't dead.”

Jenkins stared at Parker for several seconds before shaking his head. “There are four artifacts, as you know. Bowl. Beast. Man. Box. These artifacts were infused with the spirits of four great warriors, each representing a trait believed essential in an effective fighter. Heart. Strength and agility. Bravery. Mind. Because someone using them in concert would have immense power, a curse was placed on the box. They were stolen anyway. Eventually, they were separated and lost.”

“Until I found them,” Hardison said.

“Okay, really, who is this person?”

“Jenkins, be nice,” Cassandra said sternly. 

“That is not a requirement.”

She ignored him as she set the book on the table and opened it. 

“It's blank.” Parker went up to the table and peered around Cassandra. “The book doesn't tell us what to do.”

Cassandra smiled at her warmly. “It's not that kind of book.”

“What kind of book is it?”

“A magic book.”

“Really?” She reached out and touched one of the pages gently. Most people would have batted her had away, but Cassandra continued to smile.

“Yes, we tell it what to do.” She glanced at Jenkins. “How do we keep it from doing to us what it did to Mr. McGuire?”

“What happened to Mr. McGuire?” Hardison asked, taking a step back.

“He used the book for evil so he could drain the life force from people. We severed the connection...”

“Excuse me,” Ezekiel interrupted, “I severed the connection. Me. And he deserved to get eaten by the book.”

“He was eaten by the book?” Parker flipped through the pages. “Was there blood and guts and stuff?”

“No,” Cassandra assured her. “Nothing like that.”

“Since your intentions are good—unselfish--it may not exact a price.” 

“May not? You're not sure?”

“Not completely. No.”

Hardison glanced at Parker in concern. She was still caressing the book in fascination, and he didn't even know if she heard there could be danger.

“So, we just open it and tell a story and wait to see if reality changes around us?”

“Pretty much,” Jenkins agreed.

“Oh, this doesn't sound like it could backfire. Not at all.” Ezekiel joined Cassandra and Parker at the table.

“If those who took Colonel Baird and the others can feel what you're doing, there could be trouble. They'll want to keep them as much as you want them back. Even if they have no idea, this might not work. At worst, it could do something totally unexpected. It is a magic book, after all.”

“Magic books are cool!” Parker's voice was full of excitement.

“Magic books are dangerous,” Hardison argued, eyeing the book and wondering how something so old and innocent looking could have the ability to bend reality.

“Well, I guess we should get started then,” Cassandra said, clearing her throat.

“I'll be in the other room,” Jenkins told her. “Don't scream unless you really need me.”

She waved him away before starting. “Um...Once upon a time, there were two Librarians and two...” She turned to look at Hardison curiously.

“Thieves,” he supplied.

“Thieves?” Her eyes widened.

“Yeah.” Parker smiled. “We're thieves.”

“Okay. Two Librarians and two thieves.”

“Two thieves who were good guys. Kind of like Robin Hood. He was in a book, right?”

“What I don't get.” Ezekiel turned sideways to look at her, leaning against the table, “is how someone could steal all that good stuff and then give it away. What's the point?”

“Hey, guys,” Cassandra interrupted, “can we stick to the story, please? We don't want to confuse the book.”

Hardison went up to the table. Since Ezekiel and Parker were on Cassandra's right, he stood at her left. Looking down at the book, he could see everything they'd said after 'once upon a time' written on the paper.

When no one answered, she continued, “The four of them were sad because their friends had been...”

“Sucked up,” Hardison supplied, and Parker made a slurping noise.

“...by some kind of spell. They had no idea where their friends had been taken, but they were determined to get them back.” She bit her lip, considering her next words.

“Don't forget to say we don't want any energy or power or anything,” Ezekiel reminded her.

“The Librarians and thieves,” Parker said, watching in continued fascination as the words appeared on the page, “went into a big room under a bridge. It was filled with books—though it didn't seem to have much of a security system. An old guy gave them a big magic book...”

“One they knew was quite dangerous,” Cassandra picked up the story again. “They didn't want power from it...”

“Or long life,” Ezekiel put in.

“...They just wanted it to help them get the others back.” She looked up and met Hardison's eyes.

“Yeah...Uh...” He rubbed a hand across his forehead. “They started telling the story...”

“The most boring story in the universe.” Ezekiel tapped methodically on the table.

“And their friends came back,” Parker announced.

For a moment, absolutely nothing happened, and Hardison was sure they'd failed. “Okay. This was stu...”

Cassandra's hand on his arm silenced him as the air began to shimmer. He blinked, trying to clear his eyes, but the shimmering continued.

“What's happening?” Parker whispered.

Hardison looked down and saw their words were still being transcribed in the book.

“Is it working?” Ezekiel's voice was loud in the quiet room.

“Is it working?” appeared on the book's page, followed by a line none of them spoke.

Hardison's breath caught as he read, “The Librarians and thieves waited expectantly, not knowing the danger they were in. Once a portal has been opened, it can go both ways. They were about to find this out the hard way.”

“Get back,” he said urgently, scrambling away from the book.

“What is it?” Cassandra asked at the same time Parker said, “Hardison?”

Before he could explain, the room started to spin. It spun slowly at first, just enough to make everyone stumble against one another. Hardison grabbed onto the nearest object, which happened to be a chair. The swirling got faster, and Cassandra screamed, a high, shrill sound that stabbed right through his head.

His grip on the chair tightened. It felt solid despite the spinning room. Things blurred together until he couldn't see anything, and the chair became the only thing in the universe. He swallowed and closed his eyes, wondering if, like Mr. McGuire, they would be eaten by the book.

When the chair disappeared from his fingers, he clenched his hands and kept his eyes closed. The ground dropped out from beneath him and, suddenly, he was plunging downwards.

“Parker?” he cried.

He didn't have time to hear her answer before he hit something hard. There was a terrible burst of light and then darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

Sophie wakened to find herself lying on something smooth and hard. Her head hurt, and her thoughts were muddled and thick.

She lay there, listening and feeling, wondering where she was. It wasn't somewhere she was familiar with. Besides the chill under her (was that stone of some kind?), the sounds weren't right and neither were the smells.

Sophie was a trained observer. She watched people carefully, knew all their cues. It was what made her good at her job—both as a grifter and as a director.

She'd learned to pay attention to other details, too. Like how she was smelling something dank and slightly musty. There was a tang of dirt and metal and just a faint hint of excrement. She curled her nose in disgust.

Things were silent—so silent that she could hear faint breathing nearby. There was also a drip somewhere. It was a slow drip, the kind that could drive someone insane if they listened to it for too long.

How did she get there?

She searched her mind, forcing her sluggish thoughts to move. They slithered in and around one another, but she was able to bring up a face in her mind. It was both familiar and not familiar, and she held onto it as if it were a lifeline.

What was his name? He wasn't Eliot. He looked like Eliot, only his eyes didn't hold the pain and shadows that Eliot's did. Instead, his were almost innocent in comparison.

Jacob. The name floated by. Jacob, and he was Eliot's cousin, and she'd met him because...

She had a sudden picture of sitting at a table in the brew pub with Parker, Eliot, and Hardison. There was talk about a box. A haunted box? She chased the thought too vigorously, and it fled.

Concentrating on her breathing, she tried to clear her mind. A room. She remembered being in a room. Eliot was there and his cousin, Jacob, and a woman. A tall woman. A tall woman who moved like Eliot. A woman sure in her abilities to protect both herself and others. Military, maybe.

Sophie tried to remember what they were doing in that room. It was dark, and then it wasn't. Something had glowed. Was it a box? Yes. A box carved with skeletons.

Slowly, Sophie's bound mind began to free itself, and she remembered everything. Meeting Parker, Hardison, and Eliot for lunch. Being attacked by a flying chair. Calling Flynn. The Librarians. Following Jacob and Eve into the room with the box. The room swallowing them and Eliot breaking through to try to save them. The men in the hoods and the smoke.

Sophie's eyes popped open.

The room was dim but at least she wasn't in the dark. Slowly, she sat up to see that she was in a cell. That explained the smell. Three walls of the cell were rock, but the front was made of steel bars.

The cold, hard thing under her did indeed appear to be stone. It was black—slate, maybe?--and nothing had been used to cushion it. She'd probably have bruises.

There was a similar slab of stone a few feet away, and Eve was lying there quietly. Her face was calm and serene, and her chest rose and fell rhythmically.

Across a narrow hallway, she could see into another cell. There were figures in it, one lying and one sitting. Peering, she could make out the familiar form of Eliot. The one still out had to be Jacob.

“Eliot?”

“Soph?” he answered right away, “You okay?”

“I think so. You?”

“Fine.”

He'd say that if he were beaten half to death, but this time she believed him.

“Do you know how we got here?” She slid off the slab and took a moment to stretch her back. It was stiff from sleeping on rock.

“No.” His voice was strained, and she knew he was doing his best not to blow up and start trying to tear his way out. Eliot was all about violence and control and when to use each. He was the most controlled man she'd ever known—until he gave himself permission not to be.

“There were men in robes. And smoke.”

“Yeah.” He swiped a hand over his face and got to his feet.

Instead of coming immediately to the bars, he went to the other slab to check on his cousin. When he was satisfied, he came over where Sophie could see him fully.

She wrapped her fingers around the bars, feeling a momentary surge of panic. For years, this had been one of her nightmares—trapped in a barbaric prison with no way to escape. She squeezed the metal until her knuckles went white but was careful not to show any of what she was feeling on her face.

“She alive?” he asked.

Sophie glanced over her shoulder, loosening her grip. “She's breathing.”

“So, they're not planning on killing us. At least not yet.”

“What kind of place is this?”

“You know as much as I do.”

Sophie thought about the men in robes and shivered. “I don't like it.”

“Neither do I.”

There was a soft moan behind her, so Sophie turned, one hand still wrapped around cold metal. “I think she's waking up.”

Sophie carefully let go of the bar, forcing her fingers open. For some reason, it felt as if she were letting go of her only anchor to reality. Since she was used to seamlessly adapting to her surroundings, this was disturbing.

She clenched and unclenched her hands a couple of times to get rid of the feeling before approaching Eve with concern. The other woman was swearing softy under her breath and rubbing her face.

“Eve?”

Eve sighed and asked, her voice a little scratchy. “What?”

“How do you feel?”

“Like crap. You?”

“I've been better.”

Eve pushed herself into a sitting position, her feet touching the floor where both Sophie's and Eliot's had not. She looked around, scowling. “Well, this is charming.”

“I've been in worse.”

Eve snorted and shakily got to her feet. “Where are Eliot and Stone?”

“Say hi, Eliot.”

“Hey.”

Eve glanced over. When she noticed Eliot was standing but Jacob was still on his slab, she hurried over to the bars.

“Stone?”

“Relax. He's okay. He just didn't wake up yet,” Eliot told her.

He was leaning casually against his bars, looking as if he ran into situations like this every day.

“Have you seen anything? Do you know where we are?”

“Nothing. I woke up a few minutes before you.”

She seemed to accept this as she moved away from the bars to examine the walls. “Solid. No windows. Where is the light coming from?”

“I saw a torch down the hallway,” Sophie offered.

“A torch?” Eliot asked.

“Flaming, not a flashlight.” 

“The floor is dirt,” Eve continued. “It's hard packed, but we might be able to dig ourselves out if the walls don't go down too far.”

“Or if there's no stone underneath it,” Eliot added, still leaning comfortably with his arms crossed.

“Right.”

“How sturdy are those bars?”

Sophie grabbed them and tried to shake them. They had no give at all. “Tight.”

“I wish we knew where we are or what they wanted.” Eve's fingers ghosted along the wall. “Are we inside the box? What's happening?”

“You'd know more than we would.” Eliot pushed himself upright. “Didn't you say you deal with this kind of shit every day?”

“Yes, but everything is different. It's not like math. There's no set formula.”

“And if there were a set formula, we're missing the one person who'd know what it was,” a quiet voice added.

“Stone?” Eve was instantly alert.

“Anybody get the plate on that truck?” Jacob slowly sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. “What happened?”

“Welcome back,” Eliot said, nodding at him.

“Thanks. What'd I miss?”

“Not much, really,” Sophie told him, rapping her knuckles against the bars. “Unless you count these.”

“We haven't seen anyone yet,” Eve added. “We don't know where we are.”

“Aren't we inside the box?”

She shrugged. “Hell if I know.”

“Did Jenkins get a chance to tell you anything?”

“Nope.”

He looked around warily. “We're in a dungeon?” 

“Looks that way,” Eve said.

“Well built?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Do we have a plan?”

“I hate to admit it, but I think our best bet is to wait and see what happens. If we know why we're here and where here is, maybe we'll be able to figure out how to get out without anyone getting hurt.”

Sophie glanced at Eliot to see what he thought of this. He was nodding. “And if someone gets close enough, we can take 'em out.”

Eve patted her side in exploration. “I've lost my gun.”

“I don't need a gun.”

Eve stared at him steadily, her eyes searching. He met her gaze, and something seemed to pass between them. 

Trusting them to take care of any physical threats that might appear, Sophie went back over to the slab and sat down to contemplate their situation. She hated not knowing what was going on, especially when what she did know was all bad.

XXX

When Cassie could think again, she was lying on a hard floor, and her arm was propped up against someone's shirt. She stayed there with her eyes closed, feeling as if she'd had the breath knocked out of her. With all the spinning and falling and landing, she probably had.

“You all right?” she heard Hardison ask softly, his body moving against her hand as he stirred.

“Where are we?” Parker replied.

Curiously, Cassie opened her eyes to see a large, white room, one that seemed to be made of polished marble. In surprise, she untangled from Hardison and pushed herself into a seated position. Nearby was an archway made of solid looking carved pillars.

“Is that skeletons?” she asked, getting to her feet. 

Ezekiel had half of his body through the archway. At her voice, he pulled his head back in. Staring at the pillar his hand was resting on, he agreed. “Yup. Definitely skeletons.”

“Are we inside the book?” Parker asked. “Are we going to run into that Maguire guy?”

“I don't know,” Cassie admitted.

Hardison frowned. “I don't think we're in the book.”

“What? Why?”

“The skeletons.”

“What about them?”

“They match the ones on the box I found.”

Cassie walked up to the pillar to have a closer look. “Are you sure?”

“Believe me. I remember. Look at those burning eyes.”

“I think they're cute,” Parker argued, getting up and hauling Hardison to his feet.

“You would.” His tone was affectionate.

“Do you see anything out there?” Cassie asked Ezekiel.

“Just a hallway. Long. White. Boring.”

“Any people?”

“Nope.”

She went closer so she could peek around him. She examined the hallway for herself and had to admit it was pretty much as Ezekiel had said. 

“Where do we go from here?” he asked her.

Suddenly, Cassie was the centre of attention. All three of the others were staring at her in expectation. .

“Um...” She thought about what she wanted to say. “Well, we're not going to discover what's out there while we're still in here.”

“Do you think Eliot and Sophie are here?” This was Parker.

“I don't know, but if we're not in the book, I think so.”

“We're not in the book. Definitely not in the book,” Hardison assured her.

Ezekiel stuck his body back through the arch. “Which way do we go?”

“Which way feels good to you?” Cassie asked, joining him. He had good instincts, and she trusted them.

“I don't know.” He looked doubtful. “Maybe we should go that way.” He pointed right.

“That's good enough for me.” She glanced at Hardison and Parker, who had joined them. Parker's face showed nothing but excitement, but Hardison looked almost panicked. He had his phone in his hand, and he was just staring at it.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked.

“No signal.”

“Your phone?”

“It's barbaric!” Being magically transported by a book didn't seem to bother him as much as having no signal for his cellphone.

Ezekiel shook his head and slipped out into the hallway. Parker followed without hesitation. She was even more graceful than he was, and her footsteps made no sound.

Hardison shoved his phone in his pocket. “I don't like this.”

Cassie patted his arm briefly in sympathy before moving to follow Parker and Ezekiel. Hardison came with her, their movements awkward compared to the other two.

“You really are thieves, aren't you?” she said quietly.

“Parker's the best.” His eyes shone with pride. “Now, me, I'm a hacker. I'm good at what I do—great at what I do—but I could never do what she does.”

“Ezekiel does some of both.”

“What do you do?”

“I do math.”

“Math as in...?”

“Math.” She waited for him to say something mean.

“Oh, cool. So, if I asked you to calculate something...”

“Seconds.”

“So, you're some kind of genius?”

“That's what they tell me.”

He lapsed into silence, and Cassie suddenly remembered Eliot mentioning how smart Hardison was.

Parker turned and hissed, “Are you coming?”

“Sure,” Cassie told her, and she and Hardison hurried to catch up.

As they traveled through the building, all of the hallways seemed the same. They followed some and bypassed others, but the white marble, smooth and carved with menacing skeletons, was constant. It was almost surreal how quiet and sombre everything was. Some of the rooms they passed were empty, and some had furniture. There were no people, though. Cassie wondered where everyone was.

The quiet was suddenly shattered by a large gong. Cassie squeaked in surprise and grabbed onto the back of Ezekiel's shirt.

“Easy,” he said quietly.

The gong sounded again, and Cassie loosened her grip and listened. Three more bold, brassy notes echoed around them before the noise stopped. It was obvious that the chimes meant something, and Cassie curiously wondered what. Following the last gong, there was an eruption of noise—voices, shuffling feet, banging, and clanging.

Parker ducked into the nearest room. Ezekiel grabbed Cassie's arm and pulled her in with him. Hardison was close behind, so close that he brushed her when she paused to try and think.

The room was small and looked as if it served as someone's office. There was a huge wooden desk covered in paper in front of a large window. The window was made of flawless glass, and the paper looked like normal paper.

She didn't have time to make much more of an observation before Ezekiel was pulling her against the wall. His wiry body pressed against hers, and he covered her mouth with his hand.

Parker was the one nearest the door, and Ezekiel and Cassie were close beside her. Hardison was on the other side, his expression tight.

They had just stilled when there was the sound of many pairs of feet passing by their doorway. Cassie felt a prickle of fear. There were so many that if they were discovered, they'd be overwhelmed.

As she listened to the people go by, she let her brain paint a picture. It came in numbers and more than three dimensions, with familiar and well loved scents. Ezekiel continued to press against her, his lithe body tight with tension.

When the last of the steps passed—twenty-seven pairs of feet—Parker peeked around the door frame. She touched Ezekiel's hand lightly to indicate he should stay still.

“People in robes,” she said quietly. “A lot of them. They're all heading in the same direction.”

“We should go see where they're going,” Cassie tried to say, but Ezekiel's hand was still tight against her mouth.

“So we should go see where they're going, right?” he asked.

She nodded her assent.

“Oh, sorry.” He dropped his hand and pushed away from her body.

“Anyone else notice the room?” Hardison was looking around thoughtfully.

“It's a room, mate. Table. Chairs. Windows.”

“Modern windows. Modern paper,” Cassie said, now that she could talk.

“But no electronics. No computers. No phones,” Hardison added.

“Do you think it could be some sort of cult or monastery?” Ezekiel asked.

“Yes.” Parker agreed. “Those guys in robes could have been monks.”

“Or magicians,” Hardison offered.

“Now, I really want to know where everyone's going.” Cassie could feel excitement at the unknown bubble up inside her, overwhelming her fear.

“Should be easy enough.” Hardison pointed to a robe draped casually over a chair. “We've just got to find three more of these.”

“I'll go look,” Parker offered before turning to Ezekiel. “Unless you want to.”

“No. No. I'm fine.”

“Okay.” She shrugged and put on the robe Hardison handed her. “I'll be right back.”

The three of them waited for her quietly. It wasn't long before someone with a robe hurried in. Cassie felt a flutter of fear until the figure flipped off its hood to reveal Parker's smiling face.

She had three robes hung over her arm, and she started passing them out. Cassie's was a little long, but she was sure she would be able to walk without tripping if she were careful.

The robes were a deep red, almost brown, and she tried not to acknowledge that they were the color of dried blood. Both the sleeves and the hem were trimmed in a black.

Cassie sniffed the robe suspiciously and was happy to find it smelled like some kind of flower rather than the sweat she'd expected.

As she was slipping it on, she glanced at Hardison's face. He looked uncomfortable and a little disgusted.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

“Germs,” Parker supplied.

“Do we know who was wearing this thing? No. He could have had boils or BO or some horrible disease passed from skin to skin contact.” 

“At least there won't be any dust mites.” Parker sounded so cheerful that Cassie guessed this was a continuation of an ongoing conversation.

“No, but there could be lice...or fleas.” His expression turned pained.

“Do you want to leave the room or not?” Ezekiel asked, muffled because he was pulling his robe over his head.

Cassie straightened her own robe. She rather liked it, even though it belonged to someone else. She wasn't really all that squeamish. After all, her mind was a ticking time bomb. What did she have to fear from anything else?

Hardison sighed and threw the robe over his head. He was mumbling into the fabric as he did so, and Cassie wasn't sure if he was cursing the robe, the situation, or Cassie, Ezekiel, and Parker. Maybe it was all three. When he finally had on the robe, it was a bit short for him, and his shoes were visible. 

“Ready?” Parker asked. “I saw which way they went, so we should be able to catch up. They aren't walking very fast.”

She flipped up her hood, and suddenly she was alien again.

“Put your hands in your sleeves like this,” she continued, and the rest complied.

When no skin showed except for shadows of chins and necks, Parker led them into the hallway. There was no one around, and they hurried to catch up to the trail end of the people. 

When they started hearing noise, Parker slowed down at the front, and they all followed suit. She fell into a sedate pace, with an unusual gait. Cassie studied her carefully, trying to match it. She wasn't as successful as Ezekiel, but she thought she did as well as Hardison.

They went around a corner and saw a small group of robed figures. Without hesitating, Parker joined them. Cassie wasn't sure if that as such a good idea, so she hung back just a little.

No one seemed to notice their addition. The original members of the group walked with the same unique gait that Parker had adopted. They weren't hurrying, but they still gave off the impression that they had somewhere to be and that they had to be there soon.

As they went on, their group merged with others until it grew to be over twenty people strong. Some of the figures spoke to one another in quiet tones, but conversation dropped as they went deeper and deeper into the building. Eventually, it ended altogether, and the only sound was that of feet on marble.

Their journey brought them to a room easily as big as the gymnasium where her high school used to hold its STEM fairs. It was full of people but eerily silent. There was no shifting, no restless shuffling. Cassie felt her skin crawl, and she gripped her forearms in anxiety. She moved closer to her companions.

At least she thought they were her companions. Things had gotten a bit muddled on the way. She knew the figure on her right was Hardison. She recognized his shoes. The one on her left, she assumed was Ezekiel, but she was basing this solely on his build. She wasn't quite sure which one was Parker.

Cassie suddenly felt very alone. There was a crowd of people around her, and she couldn't tell who was friend and who was foe. If the tide turned and she was discovered, she'd have to face this mob of scary, silent people alone.

She bit her lip and kept her head down, trying very hard not to be noticed.

At the front of the spacious room, there was a small stage. It was a raised marble platform, wide enough for several people to stand and deep enough that none of them would fall off the edge. The only thing on the stage was a huge round disc made of metal. It was smooth and shiny and dangled from a wooden frame. Cassie guessed this was the gong they'd heard.

The silence in the room turned expectant, and she had to fight the temptation to stand on her tiptoes to find out why. A sudden ripple went through the crowd and a man came out onto the stage. Like the others, he was wearing a robe, but the cowl was down and resting against his shoulders.

He was a perfectly normal looking man. With all of the secrecy and with the magical beings she'd encountered over the past six months, she had been entertaining images of some pretty scary things. This was just a man.

His hair was shaved to his shiny scalp, but his beard was long and white and thick. He had a round, almost grandfatherly face and, when he spoke, his voice filled the room. To her surprise, she understood what he was saying. He spoke English with a decidedly British accent. Cassie wished she could trade a significant look with her companions.

“Hello, Brothers and Sisters,” he boomed. He was so loud, she wondered if his voice was magnified by magic. “I know this is not our normal time of gathering, but I have news, and it cannot wait. Today is the day. After five hundred years, that for which we have been waiting has come to pass.” There was murmuring in the room now, soft but audible. “Yes, it is true. We have retrieved the Warrior Quartet!”

The murmuring grew louder until the voices echoed off the walls. Cassie winced and wished she were free to cover her ears.

The man on the stage grew quiet as he waited for the excitement to run through the crowd. From what Cassie could see, he had a smug, pleased look on his face. 

When the talking went on and on and on, the man raised his hand, and things grew quiet once more.

“That's not the end of our luck, friends. There is more.” Every person's attention was riveted on him again. “As you know, the time is once again upon us to recharge the artifacts. For this, four lives are required. Four sacrifices. We were going to ask for volunteers to fill the positions, those among you with exceptional heart, strength, intelligence, and bravery. That's no longer required. The Warrior Quartet has already chosen the sacrifices and brought them here. All that needs to be done is to test the bond.”

The conversation now held a tone of shocked disbelief. The voices rose and rose and rose until Cassie was afraid her head would split open. When it was obvious the noise wouldn't stop on its own, the man picked up the mallet and banged the gong. It let out a loud, sweet note that made the throng immediately silent.

“You are dismissed.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This didn't turn out exactly the way I wanted, but I hope it's not too bad.

Eliot was talking quietly with Jake when the distinctive sound of metal on metal indicated a door was opening nearby. He held up his hand, senses alert, and his cousin immediately fell silent.

Across the hall, he saw Eve also react to the noise. He caught her eye and gave a short nod. She nodded back.

Seconds later, four robed figures appeared. Their long robes covered everything but their hands, which were tenderly carrying the artifacts from the brew pubs's basement. The figures looked almost sinister in the torch's flickering light, and Eliot tensed in anticipation.

He went to the bars to study the situation. He might be able to reach out and grab one of the men to smash against the bars, but that would not give him the key. On the other hand, he could grab one of the men and hold him against the bars, threatening to break his neck if they were not turned loose. That seemed the best option. There were no visible weapons—unless the box itself could be considered one.

Of course, neither scenario was possible right now because the robed figures stood out of reach. They stopped and started to chant lowly, so lowly that Eliot couldn't make out individual words.

“Hey!” Eve said over their chanting. “You in the robes! Why are we here?”

The chanters ignored her, and Eliot saw annoyance go over her face.

The chant went on for several minutes, so Eliot crossed his arms and leaned against the bars. 

“Now,” one of the robed figures barked out, and the smallest of the group raised the bowl.

“Heart,” a surprisingly feminine voice announced, and the bowl in her hands started to glow.

Sophie let out a sharp cry and grabbed her middle. Her face went white, and she doubled over, falling off the slate slab where she'd been sitting. She tumbled onto the floor and lay there, curled up in obvious pain.

Eliot felt rage burn inside of him. He barely managed to keep his wits as the anger tried to drown him. Since the day he'd met her, he'd been aware of her vulnerability, and seeing her mistreated always set off his protective instinct. At that moment, if he could have reached them through the bars, all four robed figures would have been dead. As it was, Eliot tempered his rage, holding onto it tightly so it would be ready to use when he needed it.

Ignoring Sophie, the one holding the figure of the man held it higher than the others and said, “Bravery!”

Eve, at the bars opposite, grunted and doubled over. She'd been about to go to Sophie, but her steps faltered, and Eliot could hear her gasp from where he was. 

“Baird!” Jake cried and gripped the bars.

Eve fought to right herself, and her glazed eyes cleared slightly. She was also pale but whatever had afflicted her was something she was trained to deal with. As she straightened, anger flamed on her face.

“Strength!” A reedy voice announced, and Eliot felt something stab into his middle. It was a burning pain, and fires of agony tried to rip through his guts. He hunched and looked down, almost surprised not to see entrails in his hands. He grit his teeth, setting them against the pain, and lunged at the bars.

“Mind.” The voice sounded triumphant.

Jake cried out beside him and bent at the waist, panting. He made no other noise, but he remained bent, with his hands clenched.

Eliot didn't know how long the pain lasted. He was able to put it away in a little box in his mind as he thought of all the things he'd do to the robed figures' frail bodies once he was loose. The red that tinged his vision was welcome. It helped him to focus until all he could see were the hands holding the artifacts. He would break those first.

Then, suddenly, the intense pain was gone. He heard someone sob in relief and thought it must have been Sophie.

Glaring at the nearest figure, he rasped, “Come here.”

As if he hadn't spoken, the four turned and walked away, back the way they'd come. There was the screech of the door and then silence.

“Everybody okay?” Eve asked. Her voice was thick and shaky and her face was pale, but she was in complete control of herself.

“Yeah,” Jake said weakly. “Fine. That freakin' hurt. What was that?”

Eve's eyes fell on Sophie, and she hurried over and knelt by her. Eliot watched anxiously as Eve touched Sophie's shoulder and then helped her up into a seated position.

“I just need a minute.” Sophie's soft voice barely made it to Eliot, but he found the sound reassuring. 

“It couldn't have been good, whatever it was,” Eve answered Jake's question without looking at him.

“So, now what?” Eliot asked.

“We've got to work with what we've got and make a plan. It's no longer safe to stay in the cells.”

“Escape? You've already studied every inch of the walls.” Sophie was starting to look better now. She was propped up with her back against the slate bed.

“If they'd come close enough, we could take 'em out,” Eliot suggested. “If they're keeping us alive for something, eventually they'll feed us.”

“That depends on how long they want us to live.” Eve sighed and leaned her hip against the stone beside Sophie.

“I wonder if we could talk to them.” Sophie looked thoughtful. “They were speaking English. We can understand each other. Maybe we could convince them to let us go. If they listen, I might even be able to convince them that it's their idea.”

“They didn't look too interested in talking.”

“Everyone's interested in talking if you know the right thing to say.”

“And how would you know what to say to a crazy magician who's done something painful to you and who could possibly be planning on doing much worse?”

Eliot's rage had calmed enough for him to smile. “You'd be surprised at what Sophie can talk people into.”

Sophie smiled warmly at the compliment.

“How exactly do you know Flynn?”

“I helped him run a con on a prince once. He got the dangerous magical artifact, and I got part of the royal jewels. It was one of my best partnerships.”

“So you're a con artist?”

“I prefer grifter, and I'm retired now. A legitimate contributor to society. I run acting classes and direct plays for a living.”

There was speculation in Eve's eyes as she studied Sophie, and Eliot could see her thoughts realigning. Then she turned her gaze on him. “And you? What's your story? You're ex-military, that's plain. That's not it, though, is it?”

“I'm a chef.” 

“If you're just a chef, then I'm a princess.”

“Nice to meet you, Your Highness.”

He expected a snappy reply, but instead her eyes dimmed as her thoughts turned inward, searching for something.

“Spencer,” she said eventually. “Eliot Spencer. I knew that name sounded familiar.”

There were any number of things she could have heard about him over the years, both good and bad. He wondered which of these she was remembering.

“When I was taking my special ops training, there was a story, almost a legend, about an Eliot Spencer.” She eyed him critically. “You don't look like I pictured him.”

He shrugged. “Probably not me. There's got to be hundreds of Eliot Spencers in the world.”

Their eyes met, and he could tell she wasn't buying it. “You're probably right. Besides, no one lives up to their own legend, anyway.”

He didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he asked, “So, what's the plan? Do we beat our way out or do we try to talk to them first?”

“They didn't really seem to be in a talking mood.”

“Are you sure?” Sophie straightened. “We don't want to make them angry.”

“They've taken us prisoner for a reason, and I don't think talking's going to fool 'em out of it.” Though Jake was answering Sophie, his eyes were on Eve.

“Okay. It's agreed. The moment we get a chance, we fight our way out. We'll deal with where we are, how to get home, and how to keep them from using the artifacts once we're free.” Determination set Eve's face, and she looked at each of them to make sure they understood.

“And for now?”

“Now, we wait.”

XXX

Eve was talking to Sophie, trying to draw out information from her, when a familiar metal on metal sound interrupted her. The grifter was friendly and open, but she quickly shifted the focus of any direct questions away from herself.

Briefly, Eve touched Sophie's wrist and fell silent. The other woman inclined her head in understanding. Together, they waited to see who would approach. Across the corridor, Eliot and Stone's conversation had also died, and Eve know they'd be preparing for what happened next.

The people who entered their corridor had on the same dirty red robes as the others, but their hoods were down. There were two men and a woman, all three holding bowls. For being members of a fanatical magic cult, they looked surprisingly normal, and there was no hint of malice to them. They were silent as they neared the bars, and Eve saw something flicker over Eliot's face.

One of the men handed his bowl to the woman and produced a set of keys. Without even glancing at Stone or Eliot, he put a key in the lock so he could open the door.

That was a mistake.

As soon as the door started to open, Eliot snarled and yanked on it hard. The man stumbled into the cell, and Eliot grabbed his arm and pulled. This brought him closer so Eliot could smash his fist into the robed man's face. He went down hard. When he tried to rise, Stone put his foot on the man's chest.

“I don't think so, bubba.”

Eliot was eyeing the other two in robes. Eve couldn't see their faces, but something in them made Eliot stop and say, “We can do this the hard way or the easy way. You can try to get the door closed and locked again, and I'll beat you unconscious, or you can let me and my friends lock you in these cells and tell everyone we overpowered you. What's it gonna be?”

The woman backed up a step at the menace in his voice. Eve grabbed her through the bars and drew her close, with one arm around her waist and the other around her throat. The bowls in the woman's hands crashed to the floor, flipping some kind of stew everywhere.

“Don't be stupid,” Eliot said.

Eve could tell the robed man was frightened. These people were obviously not guards. They were probably kitchen help of some kind or maybe another kind of servant.

“The Quartet chose them,” the woman choked out through the pressure of Eve's arm against her windpipe.

Her companion nodded and slowly bent to place his bowls on the floor. As he straightened, he held out his hands placatingly.

“You can escape,” he said, his voice was surprisingly melodious, “but you can't hide. They will find you.”

“We'll take our chances.” Eliot came out of his cell, followed by Stone, who had the keys in his hand. The servants let Eliot herd them into the cell, and Stone locked them in.

Sophie joined Eve at the bars, and they waited for Stone to release them. They didn't have to wait long before he was pulling open the door.

“Okay,” Eve said. “Let's go.”

“Where are we going?” Sophie asked.

“Anywhere but here.”


	6. Chapter 6

As the throng started to filter from the room, Cassie leaned towards Hardison. “Do you think they're planning on sacrificing Colonel Baird and the others?”

“I wonder what they mean by sacrificing,” was his answer.

“How many ways can they mean sacrificing?” Ezekiel's voice came from the robed figure on the other side.

“We've got to find them. Now.” Cassie felt urgency knot in her belly.

“Hold on, girl. We're not going anywhere without a plan.” Hardison sounded calmer than he had earlier, as if he'd decided to come to terms with their situation.

As they turned to join the pack leaving the room, Cassie whispered, “Parker?”

“Aw, no.” Hardison groaned. “Don't tell me she's disappeared on me again.”

Cassie looked around and didn't see the slight blond anywhere. Of course, with the robes, Parker could be right beside her, and she'd never know. “She makes a habit of disappearing?”

“Yup. She usually comes back...eventually.”

“Should we wait for her?”

“She's probably already three steps ahead.”

After that, they stopped talking and went with the flow for awhile. Cassie kept an eye on Hardison's feet as she was swept along, not wanting to lose him. The rest of her mind was occupied with mapping out the building. They were going in a different direction than they had come, so she visualized the two trips together. The large room where the group had met appeared to be at the centre, and all the corridors seemed to branch from it.

The group started splitting up immediately as people headed back to their duties. There was some excited chatter around them and, once, someone even spoke to Cassie. She just agreed that it was amazing the Quartet was back. The person who spoke to her seemed satisfied with her answer and left to head down another corridor.

The crowd was getting thin by then, and Hardison led them down a corridor no one else seemed to be taking. Some of the doorways in this hallway had curtains over them to block them from the rest of the temple. A few of these were shut, but he ducked into one whose curtain was open.

When Hardison quickly closed the curtain, Cassie pulled down her cowl and looked around the room curiously. It was a tiny sleeping chamber, gleaming white as the rest of the building. A small, hard bed lay against the wall, its ticking too thin to offer any comfort. A small chest sat at the foot of the bed. It was rustic and simple, though a line of tiny skeletons lined its edges. Also in the room were a desk and a small dresser.

Ezekiel knelt by the chest and opened the lid. He sounded disgusted as he said, “Nothing but clothes.”

“I don't like this place,” Hardison announced, lowering his hood. “No phones. No computers. Not even a freakin' lightbulb. How do these guys function?”

“Magic?” Cassie suggested.

Ezekiel was slumped on the floor. “Not one personal item. Not one trinket.”

“They have a set of drawers there. Maybe that's where they hide their treasures. Or maybe in the desk.”

“It's a magical monastery. Where are the magical items?”

“Probably hidden.”

Suddenly, there was another loud bell. Unlike the deep solemnity of the gong, this one had a high, panicked tone to it. It was accompanied by yells and running feet.

“What the hell?” Hardison asked.

The yells got louder and feet pounded by their doorway. He reached for the curtain, but Cassie grabbed his arm. “Don't forget your hood.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

He flipped it up and stepped forward. Before he could do anything else, the curtain moved and someone slipped into the room. Cassie's mouth opened in surprise as she reached for a reason the three of them would be in this bedroom together. She didn't get a chance to say anything.

The new figured pushed back her cowl to reveal Parker's excited face. Her eyes were shining and she looked slightly maniacal. 

“Where you been?” Hardison demanded.

“This place has no security,” she said instead of answering him. “You can get in anywhere.”

“Did you set off the alarms?” Cassie asked.

“What? Oh, no. That wasn't me. Sophie, Eliot, and your friends escaped.” She laughed. “The guys in robes are pretty mad.”

“Where are they?”

“I don't know. I just heard some robe guys talking. They were in a jail or a dungeon or something. Why would a church have a jail?”

“I don't think it's a church,” Ezekiel argued. “I think it's more like the Unseen University.”

“What?” That reference went right over Cassie's head.

“Hey, I saw that. Sean Austin and Time Curry, right?” Hardison said from beneath his hood.

Cassie caught Parker's eye. “Do you know what they're talking about?”

“No clue.”

“Dumb wizard?” Hardison continued. “Walking suitcase?”

Cassie just stared at him blankly.

“I thought everyone knew who Rincewind the Wizard was,” Ezekiel said.

“Nope,” Cassie and Parker answered at the same time.

“I suppose you don't know the answer to everything, either?” Hardison continued.

“'Nope.” Cassie repeated and smiled.

“Hopeless. You're hopeless.”

“You should come to our movie nights,” Parker said. “They're lots of fun. We have them in the office on the big screen. Me and Eliot and Hardison. Sometimes Amy comes or Nate and Sophie. We make lots of popcorn and order a pizza.”

“That sounds fun.” Cassie was used to being the odd one out and was touched that Parker included her so easily.

“How big a TV are we talking about?” Ezekiel asked.

“Huge,” Hardison told him proudly.

“First, we've got to get out of here,” Cassie reminded them, “and we've got to find Colonel Baird and the others.”

“How do we find them?” Ezekiel flipped back his hood to show his face. “This is a big place, and they could be anywhere.”

“No, wait,” Hardison said slowly. “How long ago did they escape?”

“I don't know, but people just started running around a few minutes ago.”

“So they'd still be near the cells.”

“Maybe you're right.” Cassie felt excitement build. “Which way were the people heading, Parker?”

“I'll show you. Put on your hoods.”

Hardison put his hand on her shoulder. “Remember, we're behind you. Don't disappear.”

“Okay.” She threw him a grin and pulled up her cowl.

XXX

They were lucky to find a dark, empty room to duck into before the first group of people in robes rushed by. It was a square little room dominated by a large wooden wardrobe and a metal tub big enough to bathe in. Several fat cloth bags lined one of the walls, and there was a squat cupboard nearby. Scattered around the room were structures Jake could only guess were drying racks. 

Baird and Eliot had stationed themselves beside the doorway so they could intercept anyone who attempted to come in. Sophie had positioned herself behind the washtub. It was tall enough that her head didn't show, even though she was sitting up. Jake was, regrettably, in the wardrobe. It was almost full of robes, and he had to worm himself in among them. Not wanting to miss anything, he left the door cracked, and he could see all of his companions from his position.

As he stood there waiting, he became aware that his stomach was rumbling softly. It had been a long time since he'd eaten, and his body was telling him so. The sound seemed so loud in the quiet room that he was afraid Sophie could hear it.

Jake reached up and rubbed his stomach, trying to placate it. After all, who knew how long it would be until he got to eat again? Trying not to think of food only made a big juicy hamburger pop into his mind. A giant hamburger with double patties. Bacon. Extra cheese.

After several minutes, Baird's harsh whisper traveled across the room. “Okay. It looks clear for now. Let's get as far from the cells as we can.”

“Swiping a few robes should help,” Sophie suggested, gracefully rising to her feet.

“There's lots in here.” Jake came out of the wardrobe, fighting the fabric that tried to hold him in.

“Great. Stone, grab four and let's get going.”

Obediently, he pulled four robes from their pegs to pool at his feet on the floor. Sophie came and picked them up.

“No wrinkles,” she admonished. “Haven't you noticed how immaculate everyone is? We want to be believable.”

She hung one robe over his shoulder and then went to distribute the others. Eliot took his with a scowl, and Baird nodded her thanks. 

Jake quickly drew on his robe, noticing it was a little long for him. He'd have to be careful not to trip.

“There's a certain way we're supposed to walk in these things,” Sophie instructed, demonstrating.

“What?” Baird asked. “How do you know that?”

“I saw seven people come up to our cells. All of them walked this way.”

“I missed that.”

“Try it before we go out there.”

They all imitated Sophie's modified step until she was satisfied.

Baird led them out, all with their cowls drawn up and over their faces. Even though they were meant to blend in, Jake would have been able to pick them out in a crowd—Baird, tall, with a strong, purposeful stride; Eliot, who moved like a predator; and Sophie, who walked like a queen. He just hoped if someone stopped them, Baird would let him or Sophie do the talking. Her British accent was horrible.

The hallway was mostly quiet. Once in awhile, someone would pass them with purposeful strides, but not one of them even slowed down. When they discovered a flight of stairs, they quietly started up. Jake let Sophie go ahead of him, and Eliot came behind. He hoped going up would lead to windows and a way outside.

The next floor was brighter and more airy. The stone turned to white marble—the floors, the walls, and even columns of it as if they'd stolen some of their architecture from the ancient Greeks. The whole thing was a mishmash of styles so disturbing that it made his head hurt. Through it all danced familiar looking skeletons.

Jake's stomach growled again in the quiet. The only one close enough to hear it was Sophie, and she paused to look at him.

“Sorry. I'm hungry,” he told her quietly.

She lifted her hand and placed her finger to her lips. He could just barely see them in the shadow of her hood.

Jake waved at her and started walking again. The corridor branched off in three directions, and Baird took the one to the far right, which was flooded with light. The hallway was narrow and lined with large, floor-to-ceiling windows. Through them, they could see a garden bathed in the glow from an early morning sun.

Sophie went up to one of the windows and looked down, so Jake took the time to do the same. He was surprised to see so much beauty below them.

“What are you guys doin'?” Eliot joined them at the window. “Come on.”

“It's beautiful,” Sophie said quietly.

“Sometimes beauty grows in the ugliest places. It happens. We've got to go.”

Jake wondered briefly how many times Eliot had personally experienced this. 

Baird, in the lead, turned and waited patiently. He knew she was probably agitated beneath her cowl.

“We should look for the kitchens.” Sophie leaned towards Eliot to whisper.

Jake's first thought was of food before he realized she had thought of something he hadn't. Kitchens were usually near doors. Deliveries, access to produce and livestock, an easy way for the menials to get things in and out. 

“What are you thinking?” Eliot whispered back, and it was obvious that he was comfortable with her proximity.

“Kitchens are usually near doors,” she explained.

“Good point.” He waved Baird over, and they all pretended to be looking out the window at the garden. 

“What is it?”

“The most likely place to find a door is near the kitchen,” Sophie told her.

“That's true, but there's one problem.”

“What's that?” Jake asked.

“We have no idea where the kitchen is.”

XXX

When they started passing people who wore their hoods down, Eliot knew they were getting close to the kitchen. There were a lot of servants, running in all directions and talking to one another. They quieted every time Eliot, Sophie, Jake, and Eve approached, respecting the raised hoods.

At one point, Eliot had suggested they drop their cowls in order to blend in, but now he saw that Sophie's decision to leave them up had been the right one. She'd pointed out that he and Eve would never be taken for servants because of the way they moved. She'd also assumed, correctly, that no servant would detain someone with a covered face.

In the end, they found the kitchen mostly by accident. They were wandering down a random hallway when the smell of something roasting wafted to them. When they followed the smell, they ended up in a room teaming with people. Apparently the people who lived here ate communal meals because there were dozens of people working. The heat hit Eliot like a blast to his face. 

The kitchen workers themselves didn't wear robes, probably because it would be impractical when working with knives and fire. Even though it was probably rare for anyone but servants to come into the kitchen, their small party was ignored. There was a lot going on, and no one paused in their activities.

Eliot stood beside Eve with Jake and Sophie behind him. He was so close to the Guardian that her elbow poked into his side.

He squinted as he searched the room. It was the biggest kitchen he'd ever been in. There were several doors leading from it, but there were only two that looked like possible exits. He put his hand on Eve's arm and squeezed lightly. 

She bent towards him, and her breath ghosted over his face. It smelled faintly of cinnamon. “What is it?”

“I think I see the way out.”

“Where?”

“See the hanging pots on the far left? There's a door there. I just saw someone come through with a basket of eggs. “

“How do you think we should play this?”

Though they were talking softly, Sophie heard them. “Act as if you know where you're going and that the kitchen staff is beneath you. Confident and slightly arrogant.”

“They won't ask where we're going?” Jake's voice was slightly louder than a breath.

“No. They're taught not to.”

Eliot didn't always completely trust Sophie, but he trusted her judgment and her intentions were mostly good.

“It seems a shame to be here with all this food and not eat any,” Jake commented.

Eve turned to him and, though her face was covered, Eliot could imagine the look she was giving him.

Apparently, Jake could, too. “I'm just sayin'.”

“Come on,” Eliot told them, but he couldn't help but be amused.

They started across the floor boldly, forcing the servants to move instead of giving way for them. It worked as Sophie said, and they crossed the room without being challenged. They were almost at the door when a voice boomed through the room.

“Halt!”

“Keep going,” he hissed.

“There are the prisoners. Go get them.”

“Run,” Eliot barked, obeying his own order.

He weaved through servants, large kettles, pots, pans, and other kitchen debris. The kitchen staff became confused and started milling around aimlessly. This made flight even harder, but at least it had to be hindering their pursuers as well.

“Get out of the way. If we lose the prisoners, we lose everything. They're connected to the Quartet.”

This seemed to confuse things even more, and Eliot pushed a young man who stumbled in front of him out of the way forcefully.

“That's enough of this,” the voice growled.

There was a sharp cry, and Eliot stopped and looked behind him. Eve's and Jake's hoods had fallen down, and they were trying to help a hooded figure off of the floor. Sophie.

Six figures, all of which had dropped their cowls but were obviously not servants, were coming up quickly behind them. Eliot swore under his breath and backtracked.

At their pursuers' approach, Eve straightened and left Jake to help Sophie. She was ready when the first man reached her. Taking the offensive, she smashed him hard in the face. When he stumbled back, she hit him again.

Eliot lashed out as he and two more of their captors reached Eve at the same time. He caught one of them on the chin, swinging in the same motion to drive his foot into the other's stomach. He was about to strike out again before either recovered when he was suddenly filled with blinding pain. It slowed him down, making him miss his target.

“Damn,” he heard Eve swear, and she swayed sideways into him.

The other three robed men reached them, and Eliot, used to fighting through pain, pushed off of Eve and punched the nearest in the nose with his full strength. There was a satisfying crunch and a burst of blood over his hand. The man cried out and gripped his face.

To Eve's credit, she was probably feeling the same pain he was, but she also kept fighting on. A man was reaching for Jake and Sophie, but he got Eve's heavy boot to the side of his head instead. He went down hard and didn't get up.

Eliot shook his head, both to remind himself to stop watching Eve and to clear the fog the pain kept trying to cloud his mind with, and lunged for another attacker.

There was a choice of two left, so he took the big one on the right. He tackled him hard, and they went down in a flurry of arms and legs. Letting the pain give him a dangerous edge, he started punching, determined to knock the other guy out.

“Stop or I'll kill her.” The words stabbed through Eliot's haze of pain and bloodlust, and he forced himself to stop and look up.

Someone held Sophie. It wasn't one of the six he and Eve had been fighting while Sophie and Jake were all but incapacitated on the floor. He was a new threat. One of his arms was around Sophie's neck, and the other was around her middle. Sophie was grimacing in pain, and the look on her face was one Eliot had only seen once before. It froze his blood, and he slowly got to his feet. Beside him, Eve was poised to act but motionless. Jake was still on the floor, his face awash with anger and pain.

Eliot growled deep in his throat, but he didn't dare to move. Not yet.

“You could keep fighting,” the man said, his face cold and blank. “You might even win. Both you and the girl show a remarkably high tolerance for pain. You could escape, but it would be useless. We'd find you. We'll always find you. The Warrior Quartet has chosen you, and now you're linked. They told us where you were. They'll always tell us.”

“And the pain?” Eve asked, her jaw clenched.

“We can pull on your connection any time, no matter where you are. We can always hurt you, we can always find you, we can always bring you back. You may be able to deal with pain, and your beastly friend here may be able to deal with it, but what about him,” he indicated Jake, who was staggering to his feet, clutching his middle, “or her? She's trembling so hard, she feels as if she's falling apart.”

Eliot's gaze went back to Sophie. She had her eyes closed, and her face was as white as death.

“What needs to happen will happen. You cannot stop it. Trying will just bring everyone more pain.”

“If we come with you,” Eliot couldn't tear his gaze from Sophie, “the pain will stop?”

He felt more than saw Eve look at him. His eyes were on their captor.

“Yes.”

What Eliot wanted to do most in the world was smash the man in the face and get them all to safety. His whole body ached to do it with an ache almost as bad as the ripping pain in his gut. It went against everything he had to give in, but this agony wasn't just his agony. Both Jake and Sophie were feeling it, and it was new and fresh to them. It was so bad that much more of it could break them. And Eve. She was strong and resisting, but how long could she resist? She was good, but how good was she?

He looked at her and nodded. She hesitated before nodding back.

Eliot relaxed his stance. “Okay.”


	7. Chapter 7

This time when Sophie woke, she was in a soft bed. Fluffy blankets surrounded her, and she was pretty sure her pillow was full of down. She could almost convince herself that everything had been a dream and, in reality, she'd been fast asleep in her Aunt Emily's guest room.

Unfortunately, the soreness in her belly, resulting from prolonged pain, wouldn't let her believe it. There was an echo of agony and a protest of muscles as she moved tentatively. She couldn't help the small groan that escaped her.

Where was she, and how did she get there? The last thing she remembered was being held by a large goon while she felt as if a wild animal were tearing out her insides. Had she fainted? If so, that was completely embarrassing. Sophie Devereaux did not faint—unless there was a good reason for it, of course.

She blinked open her eyes and found she was in a white room full of sunlight. The room was large, with space for two double beds, a wardrobe, and a wooden writing desk. There was a window that took up one whole wall, and Sophie hoped it looked out over the garden.

She sat up slowly, careful of her tender stomach muscles, and noticed the other bed was empty. This time, she was waking up alone.

There was no door on the bedroom. Instead, it just had a carved arch. She didn't look too closely at the carvings, sure that it would just be more more skeletons. Voices came through the arch. Familiar voices.

“How can we escape it if those stupid artifacts can track us wherever we go?”

“And hurt us. I feel like someone dug a fishhook through my guts.”

“We're going to have to break the connection first.”

“And how the hell do we do that, Eve? We don't even know what it is or how it got there. What did they do to us?”

“The information might be here somewhere.”

“We'd have to get out of this room to find it.”

She listened to them for a few minutes and, even though they sounded frustrated, their voices were comforting.

“This is getting us nowhere. I'm going to check on Sophie.”

There was the sound of movement, and then Eliot appeared in the doorway. “You're awake.”

“And alive, apparently.” She grimaced. “I fainted, didn't I?”

“When the pain ended, you collapsed like someone cut your strings.”

“How embarrassing.”

“Hey, that was a lot of pain. It was never your job to feel it. It was new to you.” He smiled his rare but very charming smile. “Jake threw up.”

That made her feel slightly better. “What's going on?”

“They said they'd feed us. We're waiting for the food.”

“Oh! I could eat.” Sophie realized she was famished. She crawled out of the bed to join him.

“You okay?”

“Sure,” she lied. “Did they happen to mention what they plan on doing with us?”

Eliot stared at her just a little too long, and it was a testament to her not being quite okay that he didn't entirely believe her. “We're sacrifices. To those things Hardison found in the wall.”

“Sacrifices?” She pulled back a little.

“We're not sure whether they mean our bodies, our souls, or both,” Eve added, looking up from where she was seated in an overstuffed chair in front of an unlit fireplace.

“From what we've seen,” Jacob said, “the 'or both' is what I'm betting on.”

“So, they are going to kill us.” Sophie went into the room, looking around curiously.

“Not if I can help it.” Eliot's voice was firm.

This room, like the others she'd seen, was white. It held a fireplace, two comfortable chairs, and some tables with candles. The massive window continued into it, and, in front of the window, there was a long wooden table with four chairs. Three doorways led out of the room. One was broad and arched like the one she'd just come through, which led her to conclude it was another bedroom. There was a smaller one, rectangular with a curtain across, which she assumed was a bathroom. The door that caught her attention was a serious wooden one, out of place in the welcoming room. That had to be the way out.

“So, what's the plan?” she asked, sitting on the arm of Jacob's chair.

“That's what we were discussing,” Eve told her. “We know we can escape. That's not the problem.”

“It's our connection to the artifacts.”

“Right.”

“There's got to be a way to break it.” Jacob leaned forward, and his arm brushed her thigh. “We need more information.”

“Maybe if we break the artifacts, it will break the bond.” Eliot sat on the floor beside Eve's legs. 

“Can they be broken? If they can, there could be a backlash. These are magical items.”

“Magical items are unpredictable,” Eve agreed.

“Have you run across this before?” Sophie asked her.

“Not like this, no, but we've seen the damage magic can do. It's not always intentional.”

“If we can't find another way, we might have to take our chances.” Eliot leaned back against the chair with his arms crossed. “Even if it kills us, it will be better than whatever these guys are sacrificing us for.”

Eve nodded. “Agreed. If there is absolutely no other way, we'll try to destroy them.”

The door rattled, and they fell silent as they waited for the kitchen crew to come in with their meals. Eve and Eliot wore identical stormy expressions as they got to their feet. As always, they were ready for anything.

When the door opened, it revealed their meal, but it also revealed four familiar, smiling faces. The cart was pushed in, and the door firmly closed before anyone spoke.

“Parker?” Sophie said in disbelief.

Parker's grin widened, and she nodded. “Yeah.”

“Colonel Baird!” Cassandra let go of the cart and ran over to wrap Eve in a hug. “We thought we were too late.”

“Uh, hi, Cassandra.” Eve awkwardly patted the other woman's back.

Jacob also accepted a hug from the enthusiastic redhead. “How'd you guys get here?”

“It was this freaky book,” Hardison started. “We talked to it, and it went all Wizard of Oz on us.”

“We went round and round and round.” Parker did a little twirl.

“Book as in?” Eve asked, frowning.

“It was the Libris Fabula.” Cassandra was speaking really fast. “Jenkins said it might help us if we told it we didn't want to steal anyone's life force. We thought it would bring you to us, only, instead, it brought us to you. We've been looking for you ever since.”

“There was this speech about you being sacrificed,” Ezekiel flopped down into the chair Eve had vacated, “so we figured saving you was important.”

“When you escaped, we thought we'd find you and join you and all get out of here, but they caught you again, and we heard them talking about knowing where you are because the Box told them....How did that happen, by the way? Jenkins didn't say anything about it tracking people.”

Sophie tried hard to follow this speech through the sheer speed of its delivery.

“That's our problem,” Eve told her, relaxing enough to perch on the arm of the chair. “We can't escape because they're keeping us prisoner with the objects.”

“The Warrior Quartet.”

“What?”

“That's what they're called. The Warrior Quartet.”

“Whatever they are, they're holding us here. We're bound to them, and we need to break the connection.”

“We think we have a little time before the sacrifice to figure it out since they put us in this room,” Jacob said, sitting back in his chair.

“You do,” Parker told him. “When we found out you weren't dead yet, they said they had three days to prepare for the sacrifice.”

“Three days?” Eliot sounded thoughtful. “A lot can happen in three days.”

“What we need to do is find what made the connection in the first place and how to break it without anybody getting hurt,” Jacob said seriously. “We can't do that from in here, and we can't contact Jenkins. There's no signal. If you guys wanna help us, figure it out. Get us out of here. If we're lucky, there'll be some kind of magic library or something.”

“No prob, man,” Hardison assured him. “Research is what I do. Of course, I prefer 21st Century tech, but I can do books.”

“Good,” Eve said decisively. “Why don't you and Cassandra try to find answers that way? Parker, you and Jones see what you can find out from the people living here. They already think you're servants. Work with that.”

“That's good,” Sophie agreed. “No one pays attention to servants. They're automatically invisible. You'll be able to go anywhere and no one will even remember you were there.”

Parker nodded. “Got it.”

Ezekiel traced patterns on the chair arm. “And what will you guys be doing?”

“Hopefully not dying,” Eve said dryly. 

“We really brought food,” Cassandra reminded them, indicating the cart. “Anyone hungry?”

XXX

They ate quickly, with some bickering between Parker and Eliot and Stone and Jones. Strangely enough, their squabbling actually made Eve feel more relaxed. She sat at the table with Sophie, Cassandra, and Stone. Hardison and Parker shared one of the big chairs, and Eliot took the other. Jones sat on the floor, near enough to argue with Stone but far enough to avoid being kicked.

When the food was gone, Parker, Cassandra, Jones, and Hardison hurried back out to find answers, making the room suddenly quieter and more solemn. Reality returned, and they faced the knowledge that they were supposed to die in three days.

“So, I guess we wait then?” Sophie had moved to one of the comfy chairs, and Eliot sat on the arm.

“I've been thinking about this,” Stone said in answer. He'd brought over one of the chairs that went with the table. It was turned around and his forearms rested across the back.

“About what?” Eve was in the other big chair, her legs up and tucked beneath her.

“They said that the artifacts...”

“The Warrior Quartet,” Sophie interrupted.

“Yeah, those. They chose us somehow. I thought the ritual bound us, but what if it happened in the basement? Maybe we were brought here because we were already linked.”

“Why us?” Eliot asked. “Why not Hardison and Parker?”

Eve thought about that. “Because together we make the perfect warrior.”

Stone snapped his fingers. “Exactly. The Quartet looks for certain qualities. The robed guys told us that in the cells.”

“When they said the words out loud. If we're each linked to an object, do you think we're also linked to one another?” She glanced at Eliot.

He shrugged. “I don't feel any different.”

“But would we? We don't feel our connection to the artifacts until someone activates it.”

“It is possible,” Stone agreed, “since all the pieces of the Quartet are linked through the Box.”

Eve held up her hand to stall further conversation when the door started opening. A robed figure strode into the room. He—or she—was tall, maybe as tall as Jenkins, and a hood hid his face. He closed the door behind him and pushed back his cowl.

He was very blond. Though his face was unlined, his hair was almost white, and his eyes were a startling blue. They stood out in his pale face like pieces of glass. He waited there, expressionless, for several seconds. Eve wondered what he was waiting for.

“Good,” he said eventually. “I see you've come to your senses.”

Eliot stood and gave him a look that should have killed him. “What do you want?”

“I've come to tell you what is expected.”

“Besides the dying, you mean,” Eve commented, alert but not bothering to rise.

“This is not a death, this is a sacrifice,” he told her solemnly.

“Yeah, well my body doesn't know the difference.”

His eyes narrowed. “You will be silent.”

“You know,” Eliot flexed his hands, and a wave of menace came from him that was so strong Eve was surprised their captor didn't stumble backwards, “I could kill you right now. Snap your neck just like that.” He made the motion. “I know we couldn't escape. Someone would probably be up here in minutes to send me a jolt of pain. But it would make me feel better.”

This just garnered him a look of scorn. “You must be Strength.”

Eliot took a step forward but stopped when Sophie leaned over the chair arm to gently touch him. He didn't look at her. All of his attention was still on the man in front of them.

Ignoring him, the man turned to Stone. “In an hour or so, the Quartet will be brought in. They must be in this room with you for seventy-two hours. Do not try to molest them or break them. They are completely indestructible and this will only lead to your death. Your death is not something we desire, but you are replaceable, so there is nothing to be gained in the attempt.”

Eve felt slightly annoyed that he acted as if Stone were the only one worth speaking to in the room.

“When those seventy-two hours are completed, you will be taken to the bathing chambers where servants will scrub all taint form your bodies and souls.”

Eliot made a noise that Eve didn't know whether to interpret as amusement or anger. Sophie's fingers were still lightly on the back of his shirt, and Eve wondered at the control the other woman had over the hitter with just a gentle touch.

“You will be wrapped in ceremonial white robes and brought to the stage where your life force will go into the Quartet.” His eyes suddenly went back to Eliot. “You will behave yourself. I know your own pain means nothing to you, but what about his pain? Or hers? Or hers?” His gaze moved to Sophie. “She is your weak link, and she will be the one who suffers.”

Eve heard Sophie mutter something that sounded like, “Wanker.”

“If you have any questions, you may ask on the day of sacrifice. Until then, you will be well taken care of. There is a water closet there, and a tub will be brought daily by servants for those who wish to bathe. We will feed you and clothe you. You will be kept from harm, as long as you cooperate.” He was talking to Stone again. “Do you understand?”

“You can't expect us to willingly go to our deaths.”

“You will do it, either by free will or by force. We don't care which.”

None of them spoke.

“I will see you on the day of sacrifice.” He bowed his head briefly before turning and leaving the room.

Eliot pulled from Sophie. When he turned, his face was stormy and his eyes burned. He looked terrifying, even to Eve who had faced both terrorists and monsters.

“What do you want to bet they're bringing the Quartet here to strengthen the bond?” she said.

“That's what I think,” Stone agreed. “It must facilitate the life force transfer.”

“Nobody's transferring anyone's life force,” Eve told them firmly, meeting each pair of eyes briefly. “Right now, the others are working on their part of the plan. We should be thinking of one of our own. Maybe two. One of which would include not dying.”

Some of Eliot's rage receded. “What do you have in mind?”

“We have to make a contingency plan in case Hardison can't find the answers we're looking for.”

“Don't underestimate Hardison.” Sophie settled more comfortably in her chair.

“The answers might just not be out there. If not, it will be up to us to make sure they don't get control of whatever magic the Quartet has.”

Eliot nodded. “One of us may have to try to destroy the artifacts. He could have been lying about them being indestructible.”

“No.” Stone shook his head. “If he wasn't lying, one of us dies. Hell, we could all die anyway because of our link to 'em.”

“That's not our Plan B,” Eve told him. “We'll try to think of another way. We'll call that Plan M.”

Sophie looked startled. “What did you say?”

“Plan M?”

“If it comes to it,” Eliot interrupted, “I think it should be me. I'll try to destroy the statue of the Beast.”

“Wait a minute.” Eve held up her hand. “It's my job to...”

“You're wrong,” Sophie said softly, but her voice cut through the conversation. When everyone looked at her, she continued, “Surely you all heard. He said I was the weakest link. What if the Bowl is the weakest of the Quartet?”

“That's stupid,” Eliot sneered.

“They've got it wrong,” Stone argued. “Heart isn't the weakest of the four; it's the strongest. It doesn't matter that the mind controls the rest. It does in life, too, but which is stronger? History's full of stories where the heart wins.”

'This is real life,” Eliot told him. “It's fists and feet and maybe a head butt.”

Stone shook his head. “If you lose your strength, you can go on. If you lose heart, you're lost.”

Eliot's frown deepened. “Okay, then we're back to where we started. I'll be the one to try to destroy the statue.”

Eve opened her mouth to protest but he held up his hand, mirroring her earlier gesture. 

“You've got to get them out of here. You've been fighting the magic. You know how. I'd just get them lost. You're a Guardian, and you have to be alive to do your job.”

Eve closed her mouth and nodded her acceptance. She didn't have to like it, but he was right. “That's our last resort. Now, I want options. What do we do if the others don't come back? How do we escape without getting killed? There's got to be a way. Let's see if we can find it.”


	8. Chapter 8

It was another hour before four cowled figures brought in the artifacts, interrupting a conversation that had bee going in circles as they tried to find more options. Unfortunately, without more information, there didn't seem to be any.

Jake's eyes went immediately to the Box. It looked the same as it had in the brew pub's basement. Small. Harmless except for the line of macabre skeletons. Just looking at it, he couldn't feel the connection. He wondered if he would if he touched it.

The robed figures didn't look at them or speak. They purposefully went to one of the small tables and started removing the candles to place on the floor. The table, which was low and long, was dragged to the wall between the bathroom and Jake and Eliot's bedroom. After fussing with its placement for awhile, the figures lined the Warrior Quartet along the top. When they were satisfied, they left as silently as they'd arrived. The lock clicked loudly behind them.

“He's an ugly little thing.” Baird was the first to speak. She walked up to the table and bent to look the carved man in the eye. 

Jake didn't think it looked particularly brave or heroic. It was grim faced and hollow eyed, wearing a robe decorated with skeletons. 

“Should we touch them?” Jake asked.

“Why not?” Eliot glanced at him.

“Because they're magic.” It was Baird who answered as if she were pointing out the obvious. 

“Dangerous magical items.” Jake also bent to study them. 

The Bowl was the only one of the four that didn't give him a heavy feeling in his gut. Even with its skeletons, it was beautifully carved. There was something uplifting about it, and it almost invited touches where the others repelled them. Its design didn't look familiar, and he wished he could find out more about it.

He'd been avoiding the Beast. It was fearsome, and looking directly at it brought a tingle of fear along his spine. Since Jake wasn't normally one to be afraid of statues, he assumed that was part of the magic. In form, the Beast seemed like a cross between a tiger and a bear, all teeth and claws. Its skeletons were carved into the stripes on its body as if they'd been tattooed on living flesh.

“We have to study them. They may be dangerous, but they're our only chance of escape.” Sophie reached towards the Bowl.

Baird grabbed her hand. “No.”

Sophie looked at her in surprise.

“I'll go first.”

When Sophie didn't protest, Baird released her and reached for the statue of the robed man. Jake felt an uncomfortable stirring in his stomach. They hadn't been told not to touch the artifacts just not to try to destroy them. Surely, they would have been warned if touching them were dangerous.

Baird's fingers closed around the statue of Bravery, and her eyes glazed. Her face went slack as all expression was leeched away. She didn't look as if she were in distress, not really, just as if she were suddenly somewhere else.

“Baird?” he barked, but her vacant eyes showed no signs that she'd heard.

“Should we take it from her?” Sophie asked.

“That could hurt her. We don't know what's going on. Baird!”

She suddenly gasped a deep breath, as if coming up after being under water, and her face was abruptly animated again.

Quickly, she replaced the artifact and took a step back.

“What happened?” Sophie had her hand on Baird's arm as she stared up into her face.

Baird blinked, looking stunned. “What?”

“What did that thing do to you?” Eliot was more forceful than Sophie.

“It spoke to me. They're dying. Slowly. And they need us to renew their energy.”

“How slowly?” Jake asked, looking her over to make sure she was all right.

“Slowly enough that we aren't their last chance.” She looked at Eliot. “Slowly enough that if one of us died, the people here could afford to wait and try again.”

“Did it say anything else?” he prodded.

She shook her head. “There was just a feeling of calm. Of peace. I don't think they were originally created to be evil. I know what evil feels like, and Bravery wasn't it.”

“Like any other tool, sentient or not, it depends on the intents of the users,” Jake said thoughtfully.

“Exactly.”

“Did you learn anything we can use?” Eliot demanded.

She frowned. “I don't think so.”

“The artifacts are sentient?” Sophie asked suddenly.

“It seemed like it. I'm not sure what kind of intelligence they have or how well they perceive the real world, though.”

She looked thoughtful. “Do you think we'd be able to use our connections to control the Quartet? If they've got minds, there may be a way to influence them. Maybe we can convince them to work with us instead of against us. We're the ones connected to these things by a common trait.”

“But if we escape, they know they'll die,” Jake protested.

“Yes, but death isn't always the worst thing that can happen.”

“Wait. Are you suggesting we pull a con on a bunch of magical objects?” Eliot asked in disbelief.

“I'm just wondering if it could be done.”

“Let me get this straight,” Baird said slowly. “You want to convince a bunch of inanimate objects to help us escape.”

“Essentially.”

“Well, okay then. Do you have any idea how we do that?”

“It's all about want—or need. Let's imagine the Quartet has enough awareness to understand us and really communicate. We need to find out what they want more than continuing to exist. Are they aware enough to have individual desires? Why were they created, and are the robes working for or against that purpose? Can we promise, whether in truth or not, to fulfill that purpose in a better way than the robes are willing to?” This all came out very matter-of-fact, as if Sophie had been thinking about it for a long time.

“You really think this has a chance?” Eliot didn't seem as skeptical as Baird.

“I don't know. I haven't communicated with them yet.”

“This keeps getting weirder and weirder.” 

Jake smiled at him. “You get used to it.”

Sophie was obviously still thinking. He was amazed at her adaptability. She didn't seem to have any trouble accepting that they'd gone through a magical portal created by mages to retrieve priceless, also magical, artifacts or that these artifacts were sentient and could communicate. He was having trouble wrapping his mind around it, and he dealt with magic every day.

“Okay, so now we have options,” Baird stated, turning Jake's attention to her. “They may not be good options, but they're options.

'Option one—Hardison and Cassandra find out how to break our link to the Quartet. We break it and somehow escape.”

“I might be able to get us free if they're successful,” Sophie added.

“I can get us free,” Eliot told her.

“But your way tends to be a bit messy.”

“That option has two possible escape plans,” Baird continued. “Option two is we find a way to communicate with the Quartet. We find out if they are sentient enough to have logical thought processes, then we work to turn them against our captors if they do.

'Third, if there's no other option, one of us...”

“Me,” Eliot broke in.

Baird grimaced but agreed, “Eliot tries to destroy the beast statue so that there is no longer a Quartet. Did I miss anything?”

“Hardison better be working his ass off right now,” Eliot growled.

“If anyone can find an answer, it will be Hardison.” Sophie sounded confident. Jake just hoped her confidence wasn't misplaced.

XXX

Parker and Ezekiel hurried back to the kitchen with the cart, leaving Hardison alone with Cassandra. He wasn't quite sure what to make of his companion. She seemed perfectly innocent and guileless, but it was obvious that she had a whole universe of things going on in her mind that he couldn't see. As they started off on their own, she moved with purpose, though he had no idea where they were going.

“You know,” she said, turning to him with a smile. “This is almost fun.”

“Fun?”

“Well, I mean, besides the part where our friends are going to be sacrificed so a strange cult can recharge magical objects to take over the world.”

He looked at her incredulously.

“Haven't you ever wanted to play with magic?”

“I did it once. It wasn't like this. People didn't want to murder me.” He paused and thought about that. “That's not true. Someone did want to murder me...but it wasn't like this.”

“Don't worry. We'll make sure no one gets murdered. We just have to find the room with the books.”

“How? This place is a maze.”

“No. There's logic to it.” Cassandra closed her eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Seeing the building in my mind.”

“You can do that?”

“We've been through most of it, and based on the dimensions...” She trailed off, opening her eyes and pointing her finger at something only she could see. “This side of the building was mostly kitchen, servants' quarters, and offices. If the large room is at the centre, as it seemed, then the building should go as far in this direction.”

“And important rooms should be on that side.”

Cassandra blinked and her eyes came back into focus. “Quarters for the more important of the group. Personal studies. Libraries. Magical laboratories. You wouldn't have those where the mundane work was.”

“We'd better put these back on.” He reached over and played with her hood, and she granted him another smile.

When they had their heads covered again, Cassandra led him unerringly through the corridors. She seemed to know exactly where they were going, even though one hallway looked just like another to him.

The further they got from where their friends were being held, the more people they started to see. Hardison and Cassandra just kept their heads down and pretended they were hurrying off to important business. No one stopped them.

Some of the rooms in this part of the building had real wooden doors. Most of them were open, showing small and unimportant rooms, so Cassandra didn't even pause. Hardison wondered how many people lived in this place and what they did when they weren't sacrificing people. He soon became completely lost, but Cassandra's steps never faltered. He hoped he wouldn't have to find his way back to Eliot and the others without her.

When she stopped abruptly, he almost bumped into her. She was frowning.

“What's wrong?”

“These building materials should not be strong enough to hold another floor, not of the same weight, not the way it's build. Wait a minute.” She got that far away look on her face again. “...hmn...Maybe if if they did that...that times that, divided by...No. Collapse...It just doesn't ...Oh, I haven't smelled that in awhile...It just doesn't add up.”

“So, what are you saying?”

“Why are there stairs over there?”

His eyes followed the tip of her finger, which was all that was visible in the sleeve of her robe. There was a curved marble staircase with a railing that seemed made of gold. The stairs were broad and spaced closely together. A regal carpet of deep red ran down the middle, and skeletons were carved right into the marble on either side.

“We're going up those stairs, aren't we?”

“It's strange enough that we'd be dumb not to,” she agreed.

“Then let's get it over with.”

Hardison led the way over to the stairs, hoping no one would catch them going up. The moment he stepped onto the first stair, he knew they were on the right track—or at least a track leading somewhere. His whole body tingled, and he shivered as every hair on his body seemed to stand on end. Cassie came up beside him and shuddered, and together they continued upwards.

There was a long hallway leading in both directions at the top of the stairway. In contrast to the rest of the building, the corridor was splashed with color. The red carpet continued on the floor, there were artifacts that had to be worth millions scattered casually around, and there were paintings on the walls. Most depicted men (or women) in robes performing bizarre rituals. A couple included naked people. Hardison didn't look at them closely enough to find out if they were performing rituals or not.

Cassandra eagerly peered down both ends of the corridor. He could feel her excitement, even though no part of her was visible.

“Which way should we go?” he whispered, in case anyone was close enough to hear.

“Let's try this way.”

All of the doors on this floor were real and solid, and there was a solemn feeling of importance. The first room they went by had an open door. He glanced in and saw a storage room. There were jars and tubes and powders. A table was piled high with a mishmash of objects. There didn't appear to be any books, though.

They went on, past a set of double doors that Cassandra didn't pause to open. Instead, she went across the hall to a door opposite. She traced the skeletons on the door frame with her fingers before trying the knob. It turned easily.

The light coming from the window showed a sedate study, with a desk made of heavy, dark wood. There were shelves of books and several books piled on the desk. A big stone fireplace, not made out of white marble, sat dormant near the room's only window. Hardison wondered if the person this study belonged to was interested in the Warrior Quartet.

“What are you doing?”

Hardison jerked away from the voice behind him, twirling to see a man of about his height. He was wearing the rust and black colored robes that everyone but the kitchen staff wore, but his had gold thread up and down the arms. The embroidery was, of course, made up of creepily grinning skeletons.

“Oh, hi,” Cassandra said, assuming an accent close to the one they'd been hearing all day. “They sent us up to study the ritual for the sacrifice.”

“They sent you? Novices?”

“Yes.”

“Did they even tell you were to go?” His voice showed his disapproval, and Hardison bet that he was frowning.

“No.”

He huffed out noisily. “Come with me. Everything is a learning opportunity.”

Cassandra threw a look at Hardison, and he saw the flash of her eyes in the darkness of her lowered hood. He couldn't believe their luck. It was almost as if something wanted them to find answers.


	9. Chapter 9

“Like this is fair,” Ezekiel grumbled to himself as he stopped scrubbing a pot long enough to scratch his itchy nose with his forearm.

He and Parker had swiped some clothes from a room they'd found on the way to the kitchen so they'd fit in when they go there. Unfortunately, they fit in too well. When the mistress of the kitchen saw them, she'd set Parker to chopping vegetables for the evening meal, and she'd given Ezekiel dish duty. He hated dish duty.

It didn't seem fair that his friends were upstairs, living in the lap of luxury, while he was down here, elbow deep in suds. Sure, they were waiting to be horrifically sacrificed, but at least they wouldn't have dishpan hands.

Ezekiel grumbled some more to make himself feel better, but it didn't work. He wondered where Parker was. She wasn't visible from the sink, and she seemed to have an even easier time disappearing than he did.

He looked up as someone came over with another stack of dishes. “Really?”

The woman who piled them near his elbow smiled. It was such a nice smile that he almost forgave her.

At least the kitchen help didn't have to wear robes. He was beginning to hate those things. Even though they were made of a light material, they were still hot and stuffy. Plus, you couldn't see a person's face. How could you know if you were lying effectively to someone if you couldn't see his face?

Baird had sent him down here to listen because, apparently, servants talked when they were together and were invisible otherwise. All he'd heard so far was, “Wash the dishes,”; “Do you call this clean?”; and “Have you heard that George and Ann have been going at it in the barn?” None of these were very informative, though the last was interesting at least.

The girl who'd brought him the dishes came back and gave him another shy smile. She had shoulder length hair, straight as a board and a brilliant orange, and a line of freckles across her nose. If Ezekiel were to guess, he'd say she was a year or two younger than he was. Her features were more interesting than pretty, but her smile made her highly appealing. 

“Norma sent me to help with the dishes,” she said shyly.

“By all means. I'd love the help.”

“Would you like me to wash or rinse and dry?”

“Wash. Definitely wash.” He gratefully handed her both the pot in his hand and his scrubbie.

She laughed at his answer and accepted them gracefully. “You're new, aren't you? I don't remember seeing you before.”

“Yes,” he said carefully.

“When did you come up?”

“Uh...Yesterday,” he offered.

“Then you really are new. Are you finding the place confusing?”

“Definitely.”

“If we have some free time later, I can give you a tour.”

“That'd be great.” He wondered if it would include anything he really needed to see.

“Of course, with the upcoming sacrifice, there might not be time.”

“Oh, yeah. The sacrifice. What's that about?”

“You don't know?” She looked at him curiously.

“Just the basics. You know, Warrior Quartet. Blah blah blah. Sacrifice of four to keep them magical. Blah blah blah. That's about it.”

“I don't know much more than that,” she admitted. “The High Robes don't really spend much time talking to the kitchen help.”

“No, I suppose they wouldn't.”

“To tell you the truth, I wouldn't really want to know most of what goes on here. I'd rather just keep my head down and pretend the magic doesn't exist.”

“What kind of magic do they do here?” He saw the woman his new friend had called Norma looking at him, so he looked down at the water in an attempt to make it look as if he were working.

“I don't really know. It's all very secretive. The retrieval of the Warrior Quartet seems to be the only thing the High Robes are willing to talk about. It's very important, but I'm not sure why.”

“They kill people for their magic.” He took a dish from her and dunked it in the water.

“They must be bad people.”

Ezekiel thought of Baird and Stone. They were the two straightest arrows he knew. Baird would give her life to protect anyone who needed it, and Stone would fight to the death for something he thought was right.

“What if they're not? What if the...uh...the High Robes are sacrificing them because they're good people?”

She blinked in surprise. “That doesn't make any sense.”

Like any kind of ritual sacrifice made sense.

He didn't get to answer her because Norma barked, “More washing and less talking.”

Ezekiel had a feeling that she'd brandish her wooden spoon without mercy, so he gave up talking and accepted another dish from his new friend.

There' be time to try to get more information out of her later.

XXX

Parker chopped the carrots the way that Eliot had taught her, quickly and efficiently. As she did, she thought about how they'd get Sophie, Eliot, and the others out of the building after Hardison found out how to save them.

She had no doubts about Hardison's ability to do this. He'd been able to pull off miracles over and over in the past. Somehow, he'd find the answers so that everyone could leave and Eliot would fight their way out. She wanted to have an escape route ready for them when it happened. Plus that woman—Eve—had told her to gather as much information as she could. Parker didn't know Eve, but she could tell Eliot and Sophie listened to her. And she had a plan. She seemed the type to always have a plan. Kind of like Nate.

Parker wished Nate were there. His mind was so complex that he'd have already figured out all the contingencies by now. Still, Eve seemed reliable. And determined. And Eliot liked her.

“New girl!” a voice yelled at her. It was a strangely modern sounding phrase in this very old kitchen.

Parker looked up to see the large woman who'd ordered her to chop carrots. Her meaty arms were crossed and she was frowning.

“What?”

“One of the High Robes has decided he wants a snack. You will bring it to him.”

“Bring it where?”

“To the upper floor.”

The kitchen went silent.

“The upper floor? What's the upper floor?”

“I'll go with her, Norma,” a young man, little more than a boy, really, said.

“You're too interested in magic for your own good, Nathaniel.”

“With the sacrifice coming, isn't everyone? This is the first sacrifice in four hundred years.”

Parker suddenly didn't like him very much. “I could probably figure it out on my own.”

“No, take Nathaniel. He can show you the places you must not go.”

“Okay, but he'd better now slow me down.”

“But you don't know where you're going,” Nathaniel protested, puzzled.

“Doesn't matter.”

“Take the cart, and be prompt. I need you both here to help with the rest of the meal.”

Norma led them over to a wide door. It was old and scarred, it's wood faded and almost gray. It blended in so well with the walls that Parker hadn't even noticed it was there. Waiting beside it was a cart like the one they'd used to bring the meal for Eliot and Sophie. There were several covered dishes on the top, and a shelf underneath held a glass and a pitcher.

Norma opened the door to reveal a small closet. She waved at Parker and Nathaniel, indicating they should go inside. It looked like a tight fit, but Parker had no fear of enclosed spaces—at least not anymore.

Somehow, she, the boy, and the cart all fit inside the small room. When they were inside, Norma pushed something beside the door, and the room began to slowly rise. It was the first bit of real technology Parker had seen since she got there.

Misinterpreting Parker's expression, Nathaniel said proudly, “It works by magic. There are a lot of magic things here.”

She just smiled at him politely, thinking that elevator shafts always made good escape routes.

The elevator went slowly, and it took several minutes for it to reach the next floor. When it did, Nathaniel opened a door that was much more ornate than the one below. It opened into an opulent hallway, one that was full of treasures but seemed to have no sign of a security system. Parker toyed with the idea of a magical security system and wondered what it would look like. She'd love to play with one.

“The highest of the High Robes sleep up here,” Nathaniel told her as they walked out into the hallway.

Parker felt a peculiar tickle as goosebumps spread over her skin. “What was that?”

The boy looked smug. “Magic. This floor is where all the magic happens. It's created here, and the High Robes work with it here. My father's a High Robe. I know a lot that most of the others don't.”

“If your father's a High Robe, why aren't you?”

He colored and looked away. “I didn't test high enough.”

“Tests are stupid,” she said, moving forward and taking in everything around her.

“Did you take the test?”

“No.”

“That's probably why you think it's stupid.” He was smug again.

Parker ignored him and started down the hallway. He hurried to catch up.

“We're going to High Robe Richard's study. He works on some of the best magic there is. He'll be involved in the sacrificial ceremony.”

Nathaniel lapsed into silence and they moved quickly over the red carpet through what seemed like a sea of priceless—and possibly magical—artifacts. Parker's fingers itched to steal something just to see what would happen.

Some of the doorways they passed were open, and some of them were closed. Parker glanced in the open ones, out of curiosity as much as anything. One door was partially closed, so she couldn't see what was going on inside, but she could hear movement. She paused as a familiar voice floated to her along with the sound of rustling pages. Hardison.

“What are you doing? High Robe Richard's study is around that corner. This is just a small library.” Nathaniel didn't seem to find libraries impressive.

Parker ached to jump in and surprise Hardison and Cassandra, but she knew she had to stay in character. Eliot's and Sophie's lives depended on it. In the past, when she'd broken character and gone with her impulses, it had always ended badly. Working with Nate and Sophie, she'd learned to think before she acted, and now she was able to pass by without even another glance at the room Hardison was in.

“Are there guards up here?” she asked Nathaniel casually, pitching her voice just a little more loudly than usual so that Hardison would hear her.

“They don't need guards. If anyone tried to take something off of this floor, well, something important, anyway, the magic field we felt when we came up would stop them. Only a High Robe can do that.”

“What happens if a High Robe tries to steal something?”

Nathaniel gaped at her.

“It could happen,” she insisted, but he shook his head. “Okay, then. How much further to this guy's office. I'm tired of pushing this tray.”

“Not far.”

They went around the corner Nathaniel had pointed out, and he knocked on the first door. It was opened almost immediately by a stout figure in the familiar robes of this place. Well, almost familiar. Along his arms, skeletons had been embroidered in gold thread. Parker wondered if it were only gold colored or whether it was actually made of gold.

His face was covered by his hood so Parker couldn't see his expression, but he moved out of the way so they could bring in the cart.

“We stay until he's done eating,” Nathaniel whispered to her.

Parker looked around curiously. Even with its lack of computer or a light bulb, it looked like a normal study. There was a heavy wooden desk near a large, heavily draped window. Both the desk and the window casing were carved with skeletons. There were lots of books everywhere, so the guy liked to read. She saw four shelves, stuffed to bursting, and stray books filling two chairs, half of the desk, and several spots on the floor. On the wall opposite the desk, there was a big, unlit fireplace. Beside the fireplace was a small wooden table with a matching chair. Both were also covered in books. High Robe Richard carefully cleaned these off. He piled them on the floor where they teetered precariously.

“You may set my meal here.”

Without speaking, Nathaniel started to comply. Silently, he showed Parker what to do. She followed his instructions, sneaking peeks at High Robe Richard.

Once the meal was set, she and Nathaniel stepped a respectful distance away and stood still.

Before High Robe Richard could sit and eat, there was a knock on his door. He grumbled and went to answer it, revealing another High Robe with the same markings on his sleeve.

“Michael, I was just sitting down to eat. Would you like to join me?”

“Is there enough for two?”

“Cook always sends more than I need.”

“Then I would enjoy joining you.”

Where High Robe Richard was short and round, High Robe Michael was tall and very thin. Parker could almost imagine they were faceless beneath their shadowed hoods. She had another moment of curiosity as she wondered if magic could eat your face off.

“We've had a bit of excitement today, haven't we?” Michael said cheerfully.

“Both the retrieval of the Quartet and the selection of the sacrifices,” Richard agreed. “No one expected those things to happen together.”

“Are we prepared? Will the ceremony be able to occur on time?”

The two men sat, and Richard divided the food between them. “I can't foresee any problems. The connection has been tested. It's incredibly strong already. The Quartet chose well.”

“But they are warriors. What if they break free?”

“Of the Quartet?” Richard scoffed.

“I suppose you're right. Maybe I'm just paranoid.”

“You're right to be nervous. If something goes wrong, who knows how long it will be until the Quartet finds four acceptable warriors again.”

“When will they be presented to us?”

“Formally, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“Not until the ceremony. You may go meet them, if you like. I hear they are an interesting mix.”

“You haven't seen them yet?”

Richard shrugged. “One warrior is the same as another to me.”

“What part am I to play?”

“Each warrior will be assigned a guardian ready to pull on the connection in case of problems. As you said, the chosen are warriors and may choose to try to fight their way out. Do you have a preference as to which you'd like to be assigned?”

He thought for a moment. “Heart is the least likely to fight—unless his friends are in danger.”

“Her,” Richard corrected.

“One of the warriors is a woman?”

“Two of them. Bravery fights like a lion, I am told.”

“And Beast?”

“As you'd expect.”

Parker scrunched up her nose as she tried to follow the conversation. This was important, and she wanted to remember everything for when she reported back to Eve.

“Do you think he'll be a problem?”

“No. He's easily manipulated. We just have to hurt his friends to keep him in line.”

Parker frowned at that. She didn't want anybody to hurt her friends.

“How does the ceremony work? I haven't had time to read all the texts.

“Micheal,” the disapproval was plain in Richard's voice, “you are a senior High Robe. You should have read them long ago.”

Michael shook his head. “There were always more important projects. I didn't think I'd see a Warrior Quartet sacrifice in my lifetime.”

“You should read the texts. You have over two days.”

Michael waved his hand. “I will. Please give me the shortened version.”

Parker listened in growing horror as Richard described what would happen to Eliot, Sophie, Eve, and Jacob in just a few short days. Only her new found sense of control kept her from covering her ears and yelling, “La la la la la la la...”

The being bathed by servants and having their hair combed and getting white robes to put on didn't sound too bad, but the rest of it was awful. They'd be brought down to that large room with the stage where Parker first heard about the sacrifice, and, if they tried to fight back, magic users would hurt them. Parker didn't exactly understand how they'd be hurt, but it sounded as if it would be bad enough to stop even Eliot. They'd be brought on stage and introduced, and then there'd be knives. As their blood dripped on the Quartet from above, It would slowly drain their energy until they died.

Parker's stomach knotted, and she felt as if she were going to throw up. Nathaniel shifted beside her, so she glanced at him. His face had turned white, and she thought he might pass out.

She swallowed, determined not to call attention from the High Robes. She glared at Nathaniel so that he, too, would remain silent and still. If there were any more to hear, Parker was determined to hear it. Unfortunately, Richard and Michael's conversation turned to other things, and she was left wondering what she could do to make sure the day of sacrifice didn't happen.


	10. Chapter 10

Cassie looked around the small library as the man in the robes left her and Hardison there for their studies. She couldn't believe the luck they'd had in finding someone to bring them right to their answers. Unfortunately, the man didn't tell them where to look. He just left them at the door and stomped off. 

“There's a lot of books here,” she commented, bringing the door almost closed and dropping her hood. “I mean, for such a small room.”

It was jam packed. Shelves lined all the walls, and all of them were so full that some of the books were sitting on top of others. There were three study areas. These desks were surprisingly free of books, but there were some stacked underneath each station. Other piles were staggered around the room, some of them toppled, and some amazingly in tact. There was no window in the room, but a small ball of light hovered in the air.

Hardison was also looking around the room. He'd uncovered his head, and there was dismay on his face. “Where do we even start?”

“I don't know, but we have a little less than three days to find what we're looking for.”

She went over to one extremely high and tottery pile and touched it experimentally. When she glanced back over her shoulder, Hardison was reaching for the light. His dismay had turned to curiosity.

“I wonder what this is.”

“It's a magic light.”

“But how does it work?” His fingers closed around it. “It's squishy.”

He worked it in his hand, frowning as he looked at it from all angles.

“Magic.”

“I need me one of these.”

“It is pretty neat. Do people still say 'neat' anymore?”

Hardison gave her an amused but kind half smile. He let go of the light, and it popped back up in the air like a buoy.

“I suppose we should get to work.”

“Yes.” She surveyed the room once more. “I'll take this pile over here.”

He sighed. “And I guess I'll take this one.”

Cassie grabbed an armful of books off of the pile she'd called and lugged them over to one of the study desks.

Hardison didn't even bother to do that. He slumped to the floor beside his own pile, leaning his back against one of the shelves. The books wiggled a little, and he glanced behind him to make sure one wasn't going to fall on his head.

Cassie watched him get comfortable and swipe a book off of his pile before she turned to her own books. Two of them were in languages she didn't recognize, a handful were in English, and the rest were in Latin. Luckily, she was familiar with Latin.

Once they'd started reading, they were mostly quiet. When they did talk, it was in hushed voices to report their progress—or lack of. After about an hour, Hardison broke the silence .

“I could really use an orange soda.” 

“What?”

“Orange soda. Drink of kings. Keeps my brain working.”

“Oh. I never have that problem. My problem is shutting it off.”

“Yeah, well...”

Hardison was cut off by a loud voice in the hallway outside their door. “Are there guards here?”

It sounded like Parker, and Cassie looked at Hardison to confirm. He nodded slowly, obviously listening to see if there'd be more.

“They don't need guards.” Another voice answered. “If anyone tried to take something off this floor, well, something important, anyway, the magic field we felt when we came up would stop them. Only a High Robe can do that.”

That was good to know, Cassie thought as the voices got too far away to hear clearly. A rattling sound accompanied them, and she wondered what Parker was doing on this floor.

Hardison got up, a little awkwardly with his long arms and legs, and shut the door the rest of the way.

“I hope Ezekiel doesn't come up here,” Cassie commented quietly, thinking about the thief being caught by the magical barriers. That would be bad.

Hardsion looked at her questioningly.

“He can't resist anything shiny. He's like a crow.”

He made a sound of amusement but just asked, “You find anything?”

“Not yet. Did you?”

“Nah. Not unless I want to know how to build an aqueduct system. These guys actually have running water. Without electricity. But it's only in certain parts of the building.”

“Well, you learned more than I did, though I did have one interesting book on shearing sheep.”

“So, back to it?”

“Back to it.”

Hardison groaned as he dropped back to the floor, his long legs stretched in front of him. He was surrounded by piles of books, which he seemed to have arranged by language. Since Cassie was done with her own current pile, she stacked it near the leg of her desk and went over to one of the shelves at random. She plucked out six huge and heave books and struggled under their weight as she went back to her study area. She was trying not to be discouraged, but it was going to be a long three days.

XXX

Sophie sat in front of the Warrior Quartet, wondering about how alive they were inside. They looked completely dead. As she studied them, she could see no visible spark of life. They were just two statues, a box, and a bowl. Completely inanimate. Yet, if Eve was to be believed, inside each of them, there was some kind of consciousness. What did it want? What was its purpose? Could she exploit it? 

She hadn't touched the Bowl yet. Before she could, the servants had come in with a deep metal tub. They'd all taken gleeful turns scrubbing off the grime from the dungeon. In fact, Eliot was behind her now, splashing away as if Sophie weren't even in the room. Eve and Jake had retreated to one of the bedrooms to give him privacy, but, since he didn't seem to mind, Sophie had elected to stay in the room and study the Quartet.

It sounded as if Eliot approached bathing the same way he approached everything else—with grim enthusiasm. Sophie allowed herself a small smile as she pictured him there attacking the dirt on his skin like an enemy. The thought was both amusing and aesthetically pleasing.

“See anything interesting over there?” Eliot asked, and there was a pause in the splashing.

For an instant, Sophie was almost afraid he could see inside her head, then she realized he was talking about the Quartet. “They're just objects. Probably priceless. I haven't quite been able to figure out the significance of the skeletons.”

“They're all over the place.”

“Yes, and trying to figure out why is driving me mad.”

“It's death,” he said firmly.

“Yes, death, but death of whom—or of what? It doesn't make any sense. The skeletons aren't doing anything menacing. If anything, they look as if they're dancing.”

“Like on that Disney cartoon?” He sounded amused.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Oh. Well, it would have been funny if you did.” There was more splashing.

“I'm going to ask somebody.”

“About the cartoon?”

“No.” She laughed. “About the skeletons.”

“It might be important,” he agreed. “Hand me that towel, would you, Soph?”

She got up and turned, contemplating him in the tub. Eliot was smooth and well muscled, and water slowly dripped down his skin. It was scarred in places, but rather than detracting from his beauty, it gave him character. Definitely aesthetically pleasing.

“Where'd you put it?” He trusted her enough to have her in the room when he was this vulnerable, and she refused to say or do anything that would in any way make him feel uncomfortable.

“It's over on the chair.”

Her eyes glided over several of the chairs until she saw the towel draped over the back of the one Jake had been sitting on earlier. She went over to retrieve it, staying far enough away from the tub so she wouldn't get an inadvertent glance at more than she should.

He turned in the tub to watch her and reached out his hand. She smiled at him wickedly, giving the towel a toss. It landed over his head, covering his eyes.

Eliot growled and tore it off. He scowled at her, but her smile only grew wider. 

“Next time, you'll make sure it's within reach, won't you?”

He made a face at her and, for a moment, looked more like a boy than a hardened hitter. Sophie felt a sudden surge of affection for him. Despite the fact that she found him attractive, he was the closest thing to a brother she'd ever had, and her relationship with him was one of the things that had helped her settle into her new life over the past seven years.

“Just get dressed,” she told him, turning away and going back to the Warrior Quartet. It hadn't changed in the five minutes she'd been gone. It was obvious she'd have to actually touch the Bowl to learn more. She'd wait until the servants came for the tub to do it. After they were gone, she'd be able to find out what she needed to know to proceed.

The clothing they all put on after their baths (in water that seemed to clean and heat itself because it never got dirty and it never got cold) was more modern than Sophie would have expected. It was handmade, but the comfortable, if a bit baggy, trousers had a steel zipper, and the blouse was light cotton. This meant that there had to be at least some kind of contact with the outside world. If they cold get out of the building, they should be able to find a way home.

Sophie sighed and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. Absently, she listened to Eliot moving behind her as he got dressed.

She was surprised when the door rattled, and glanced in that direction to see Parker barreling through.

“Jesus, Parker, don't you ever knock?” Eliot barked, and Sophie heard him scrambling. 

“Sorry,” Parker hissed, but Sophie had no idea why she was whispering.

“Shut the door, Parker,” she instructed. “A real servant wouldn't leave it open.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Parker closed the door, and Sophie got to her feet. She let herself look at Eliot, who was at least wearing pants. His chest and his feet were both still bare.

“Why were you naked?” Parker asked him curiously.

“Never mind, Parker. What are you doing here?”

“Oh!” Her face scrunched up and then cleared. “It's bad. Really bad. You've got to get out of here.”

“We're trying,” Sophie told her.

“What's going on?” Eve and Jacob appeared in the doorway. Now that they were dressed similarly, Eliot and Jacob looked more alike, and a stranger might not be able to tell the difference.

Parker stared at Jacob as she'd been doing since they'd met.

“I'm still not Eliot's clone,” he said conversationally.

“If you say so.”

“Parker, what did you come to tell us?” Eliot cut in.

“The High Robes are going to kill you!”

“What the hell is a High Robe?”

“They're magicians. Duh.”

“Parker, remember we don't know everything that you do,” Sophie pointed out.

“The magic people are called Robes,” she explained impatiently. “There are Novices, Robes, and High Robes. The High Robes want to kill you. They're going to cut holes in your body so the blood will drip out.”

There was a moment of stunned silence before Eliot commented, “We knew they planned to sacrifice us.”

“But not kill you!” Parker insisted.

“What do you think sacrifice means?”

“Not knives and cutting and blood.” She looked more disturbed than Sophie had ever seen her.

“It's all right, Parker,” Sophie lied smoothly. “We've got a plan.”

“You do?”

“In fact, we've got several plans, A through M.”

“But Hardison usually dies in Plan M.”

“Not this time. This time everybody lives.”

“Hey, Doctor Who.”

“What?”

“You know. The guy in the long coat. 'Everybody lives, Rose. Just this once, everybody lives'.” She said this in a strange tone of voice with a slight British accent.

“You've been watching Netflix with Hardison again, haven't you?”

“Yeah.” Parker smiled.

“Okay, will somebody tell me what Doctor Who has to do with anything,” Eve demanded.

“Nothing,” Eliot said. “Parker's just being crazy. What exactly did they say, Parker?”

“There are going to be guys following you. You'll each get a High Robe to prevent you from escaping. They're supposed to pull on something if you try. I don't know what that means.”

Sophie glanced at Eliot. “That's not surprising.”

“No.”

“If we don't sever our connection before then, it will probably be too late,” Eve said thoughtfully.

“We might need to ask you more questions about this later,” Sophie told Parker, placing a hand on her arm. “Try to remember everything they said.”

Parker nodded. “Okay.”

“Where's Jones?” Eve asked. “Did he take off?”

“I haven't seen him for hours. He was washing dishes.”

“Washing dishes? Now, I'm really afraid he's run off.”

Parker shrugged. “I don't know.”

“I'll kill him.”

“I'd like to see Jones doing dishes,” Jacob smirked.

“You're not helping. Parker, if you see him, ask him to come check in when he can. We don't want to lose anybody.”

Parker straightened at the authority in Eve's voice. Sophie knew her reply could go one of two ways. Authority usually grated on her, and she rebelled recklessly, but sometimes...

“Yes, ma'am,” Parker said seriously, giving Eve an awkward salute.

Eve rolled her eyes and took Parker by the shoulders, turning her around. “You're doing a great job. See what else you can find out.”

 

xxx

Ezekiel Jones was no longer washing dishes. In fact, he had no idea what he was doing or how he'd gotten into this situation. All he'd done was flirt a little with Molly, the cute red head, and the next thing he knew, he was being led through the complex blindfolded.

They'd talked a bit on and off as Norma, the head of the kitchen, watched over them warily. Molly seemed to listen to Ezekiel's answers carefully, and, as the afternoon went on, he'd started to realized she knew more than she let on.

Once the dishes were done, they'd been sent to give the one hour supper warning to one of the Novices. After they spoke to him, Molly's eyes turned shrewd, and the innocent servant girl dropped from her face. It was such a drastic change that Ezekiel staggered back. She hauled him into a storage room and hastily pulled the curtain closed.

“I know you're not from the village,” she whispered, staring up into his face. “Where did you come from?”

“What do you mean? Of course, I'm from the village.”

“Are you from the Serpent Brotherhood?”

“What?” Ezekiel demanded in shock.

“Not the Serpent Brotherhood. Good. Are you from the Library?”

“You know about the Library?”

Molly smiled, and it was so chilly that he wasn't sure if being from the Library was a very good thing or a very bad thing.

“Um...I mean, what library?”

“Are you the Librarian?” She peered at him. “No. Not unless you're a very new one.”

“Hey!”

“We've been waiting for a representative from the Library to come here and help us make things right for a very long time. There's someone you should meet.”

That's when she'd blindfolded him and taken his hand. It was warm and soft in his, and he'd decided to let himself trust her.

They walked for a long time. Molly was kind and skillful, so he only bumped into things a few times. As they went along, Ezekiel's anxiety grew. She could be leading him anywhere.

At one point, they went up a set of stairs that were too close together and felt weird enough that he almost stumbled. Halfway up, a strange feeling went over him, tingling from his head to his feet. He shuddered as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

He paused to protest, but Molly said, “That's just the magic force field,” and tugged on his hand.

At the top of the stairs, they turned right. Molly walked more cautiously, and they paused often. Finally, she shoved him in a room and shut the door behind them.

“Molly, what's going on?” a voice asked.

“There's someone you have to speak to.”

She reached up and took off Ezekiel's blindfold. He blinked in the sudden light.

“Who are you?”

Ezekiel squinted up at a very tall young man. He had shaggy brown hair that flopped over his eyes. His hood was down, but Ezekiel had a feeling he wasn't a servant. “Who do you think I am?”

The young man scowled, and a man beside him, a little older with solemn eyes asked, “Why have you brought him here, Molly?”

“He's from the Library,” she hissed, looking over her shoulder, even though the door was closed.

The tall young man looked skeptical. “Anyone can say that...”

“But he didn't say it,” she said forcefully. “It was what he didn't say.”

“Molly...”

“Let's start over,” the other man interrupted. “Hello, I'm Mark. This is John. Who are you?”

“Ezekiel Jones,” Ezekiel told him cautiously. “What will you do to me if I'm from the Library?”

“Are you from the Library?” Mark asked.

“He's not. Look at him. He's a spy. We should kill him,” John said quickly.

“Hey, no one's killing anybody.” Ezekiel held up his hands and spoke with his own accent.

“You hear that?” Molly demanded. “He doesn't talk like we do.” She put her hand on Ezekiel's shoulder. “It's okay. We've been waiting for you. We need you.”

“Of course, you do.” He patted her hand. “I'm Ezekiel Jones...”

“You said that part,” John muttered.

“...and I'm a Librarian. Who are you?”

“We are the True Robes,” Mark told him, “and we want to free the Warrior Quartet.”

He watched Ezekiel's face carefully, but Ezekiel just said, “What?”

“The High Robes have corrupted the Quartet, using them for evil. We want to free them to return to their true purpose.”

“Their true purpose. What's that?”

“They were created to fight the Serpent Brotherhood.”

“Okay, start at the beginning, mate.”

“Are you really from the Library?” John asked.

“Yeah.”

“After all these years, they've finally sent someone.”

“Uh...sure. But tell me what's going on, just so I can be sure.” He didn't want to tell him that his being there was a coincidence. Or he thought it was. When you were talking about the Library, you couldn't be sure.

“We were originally created to fight the Serpent Brotherhood. We were a magic order, but we were also an order of warriors.”

“To help in the fight, we created the Warrior Quartet,” Molly continued. “Four of our best warriors gave their lives so that the Quartet could exist. Control of the Quartet was given to the High Robes, who, for centuries, used them to root out and execute members of the Brotherhood.”

“But then it changed.” Mark's face was so earnest that Ezekiel couldn't look away. “The High Robes became corrupt and wanted power for themselves. They made a deal with the Brotherhood and gave them the Quartet to split up and scatter, claiming they were stolen.”

“Then what happened?” Ezsekiel was interested despite himself.

“The corruption continued. They started exerting magical influence on the world and spreading the corruption. Instead of fighting the Brotherhood, they started planning on taking it over. Anyone who opposed them disappeared.” He glanced at John. “Keep on disappearing.”

“There are still those that oppose them,” Molly said. “We want our order to return to its original purpose and fight the evil of the Brotherhood. We want to free the Quartet and let it do what it was created to do. The High Robes want to pervert its magic and use it to create chaos in the world. Now that you're here, the Library can set things right.”

Ezekiel stared at her, knowing it was as much his duty to help them as it was to save Baird and Stone. He really hated duty.

“So, you're here to help us?” Molly asked, and he saw some of the sweet innocence in her face that he'd seen when he met her. There was hope there, too. Even Ezekiel couldn't harden his heart against it.

“Of course, I am,” he told her.

After all, if anyone could save the day, it was Ezekiel Jones.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to DustyDiamond and Calantha who have been so encouraging while I fix up and post this. You two are awesome!

As Sophie sat on her wooden chair in front of the Quartet, she could feel the others watching her. She knew both Eve and Eliot were concerned about her safety; even though Eve had felt perfectly safe while she was communicating with Bravery, it was in their job descriptions to protect and be diligent. What she felt from Jacob was mostly curiosity. Though he tried to project himself as easy going and laid back, she'd learned that he was always thinking.

She cleared her mind, ignoring the eyes of her friends, and reached for the Bowl. For not the first time, she admired the detailed carving along the sides. Even the skeletons were not as menacing as the others she'd seen; they seemed to flow into the soothing, fluid lines of the rest of the design. 

When Sophie's hands closed around the Bowl, nothing happened. She frowned, wondering if there was something else she should be doing. Maybe her connection was not as strong as Eve's with Bravery, and this wouldn't work. She was about to put the bowl back down when a gentle tingling began in her fingers. Bringing the Bowl closer, Sophie settled it in her lap and ran her hand around the rim. The tingling got stronger, and she heard a soft whisper.

“Sara...Sara...” The voice was not much louder than a breath, and it came from inside of her head. “Sara...”

“Not Sara,” she thought. “Sophie.”

There was a strange sense of confusion that wasn't her own. Sophie closed her eyes to make it easier to concentrate on the quiet voice.

“Sophie?...Sophie...”

“Who are you?”

Warmth swirled around her, and a picture began forming in her mind. Eve had spoken of communication and a feeling of well being, but she hadn't said anything about visions. 

Sophie felt the world fall away, and suddenly she was standing in the swirling blues and purples. Mist gathered at her feet, and she could smell the sweet, outdoorsy scent of a garden. 

“Hello?” she said, keeping her voice hushed in the solemn space.

“Sophie...”

“Please, show yourself.”

Some of the mist swirled faster and rose, coalescing into an indistinct form. The form sharpened and became a person.

Sophie hadn't been expecting a woman. When she thought of warriors from ancient times, her thoughts were of strong, muscular men with faces like granite—kind of like Eliot, actually.

The woman in front of her was slim and blond, with long arms and legs. Her clothes were definitely warrior like, and she had a fierce band of blue on her skin across her eyes. She wore her hair in a no nonsense braid that was tied at the bottom with a piece of leather. The expression on her face was hard and determined, but her eyes were kind. Sophie stared at the warrior woman, for the first time in her life feeling out of her depth.

“You are not Sara?” the woman asked softly, her voice gentle.

“My name is Sophie Devereaux, and you are?” Sophie held out her hand, but the other woman refused to take it.

“You are Sophie.” She peered at Sophie. “But you are also Sara. And Charlotte. I don't understand.”

Sophie dropped her hand. “It's simple, really. I was Sara as a child. As a teenager, I preferred being called by my middle name. Now, I am Sophie.” 

The look of confusion cleared. “You are Sophie as I am now Heart. Once I was Mary, but I was transformed. They call me Heart, and I have no flesh, but Mary still resides inside. You may believe you are only Sophie, but you are wrong. You are also Sara and Charlotte...” She looked more closely at Sophie, as if she were seeing through her. “And Catherine and Elizabeth. You have had many names, but none has been as important to you as Sophie.”

'Sara hurt,” Heart continued softly. “She hurt very much. She became Charlotte to escape the hurt, but the hurt followed her.”

Sophie wanted to step back from the compassion in Heart's eyes, but she couldn't move.

_“Aunt Emily,” the child's voice came form both nowhere and everywhere. “I just wanted to...”_

_“Hush, child. Do you know what you've done?” Aunt Emily had a way of speaking that could cut to the bone._

_“But I wanted...”_

_“What you want doesn't matter. No one cares what you want. You have responsibilities. Come along and forget this foolishness.”_

The words echoed around Sophie, and she winced. She was beginning to realize that a con was probably out of the question. It was quite possible that Heart—and the rest of the Quartet—could read minds. No, more than minds.

“Yes, I see you. I know you. We are linked,” Heart answered her unvoiced thought.

Sophie wasn't quite sure how to act around someone who could strip away all the lies, even the ones she didn't know she was using, to see the real her. She felt naked.

Heart frowned. “No, I cannot be tricked. I will know if you lie to me.”

“Then you'll know this is the truth. I'm here to find out your purpose. What were you made for? Is there something we can give to you?”

“You're afraid of dying.” Heart put a gentle hand on Sophie's arm. Her skin was warm and felt real.

“Yes,” Sophie admitted.

“Your deaths are not our choice. We were not created to kill the innocent. We drain energy through the link, but no more than you can give. The only ones we're meant to kill are the Children of the Serpent.”

“I don't understand.”

Heart held up her right arm to show Sophie. Around her forearm was a wide metal band. It was all of one piece, and the skin around it was red and raw.

“We are bound and being forced to perform acts that shame us. Before we were separated, I was forced to use torture to make people tell the truth only I could see. Being dormant was a blessing, but now it has started again.”

“May I?”

At Heart's nod, Sophie gently took the other woman's forearm in her hands. She studied the metal band thoroughly but couldn't see any way to release it.

“You know why I came here?” Sophie asked, still looking at the shackle.

“You wanted to use lies to convince us to help you fight against the Robes who are planning to kill you. You thought our links would allow you to persuade us, but we do not need to be persuaded. We are as much prisoners as you are. After all, we were sanctioned by the Library.”

“What?” This she hadn't been expecting.

“Given the choice, we would spare you. We do not need your blood to survive, but we do not have control over how we are used. We do not even have physical form outside of that of our vessels unless we are called forth into battle.”

“Then who does have control?”

“The High Robes. We must do what we are forced to.”

“So, without breaking the connection, we all die?” Sophie absorbed this numbly.

“There is another way.”

“Another way?”

“The connections were created for a reason, and it wasn't for a ritual of blood. They work both ways. We were created to be used by four that we choose worthy not by the High Robes. In the past, once the sacrifices started, none thought to question the reason for the link.”

“Can the link be broken?”

“If you free us, we can free you, if that is what you desire.”

“How do you suggest we do that?”

Heart shook her head. “Follow your heart, Sara. That's what it's for.” The mist started swirling around her again, quickly obscuring her from sight.

“Wait!”

“We are linked. If you need me, I am here,” she said, her voice wispy as she disappeared.

Sophie was suddenly looking at the inside of her eyelids and listening to the others talk quietly. 

“I like to use green onions,” Eliot was saying. “White onions just don't give the same flavour.”

“I'm not big on onions. I'll eat them, but...meh.”

“When we were in high school, Eliot used to make these sandwiches for the football team...”

“You were on the football team?”

“Yes.”

“Of course, you were.”

Sophie smiled as they talked about nothing. She felt tired, and she could have remained in her chair just listening. It was tempting, but she wanted to tell the others what she'd learned.

She blinked open weighted eyelids and looked down at the bowl in her lap. It felt warm to the touch now, almost as if it were alive. In some sense of the word, she supposed, it was.

She wasn't sure how she felt about it knowing all of her secrets. It could see into her past; it could see into her mind; it could see into her heart. It knew about Sara and Charlotte and the others. Things Nate didn't even know, it could pick up from inside of her, and that made her feel almost vulnerable. Even so, Sophie hadn't felt threatened by Heart's knowledge. Like Eve, she'd felt completely safe while talking to Heart, and most of her trusted the warrior woman to keep her past private.

Sophie got up from her chair and paced the Bowl back on the table. She felt a little stiff, and she wondered how long her conversation with Heart had taken.

At her movement, the others stopped talking, and Eve asked, “Sophie?”

She could hear the concern in Eve's voice, and it warmed her. They'd known each other less than twenty-four hours, and yet Eve seemed to already consider Sophie and Eliot friends.

Sophie turned to see them all looking at her. She waved a hand at them to show she was okay.

“You were out over an hour,” Eliot said. “You talked to it?”

She nodded. “I talked to it.”

“Is it intelligent?” Jacob asked.

“The soul of the first person sacrificed is still in there. She's part of the bowl. I think it's the same with the others. I saw her.”

“You saw her?” Eve got to her feet.

“Very clearly. They know us intimately.”

“How intimately?” Eliot's face scrunched up.

“She knew my real name.”

“Your real name?” Eve raised an eyebrow.

“Sophie is the name I chose.” 

She accepted this without comment. “What did she say to you?”

Sophie sketched her conversation with Heart for them, leaving out anything she didn't want the others to know. 

“So, now we have a new problem,” Eve said thoughtfully as Sophie finished her story. “We don't have to find a way to sever the connection between us and the Quartet. Instead, we have to figure out how to release the Quartet from the Robe's control.”

“How do we do that?” Jacob asked.

“I don't know yet.”

“What about using the connection in reverse like her little friend,” he made an obscure gesture at his his head, “suggested?”

“We don't really know what she meant,” Sophie argued.

“Should I see if the Box can tell us more?”

“Wait until we hear from Hardison and Cassandra.” Eve put her hand on Jacob's shoulder. “Hopefully, they'll be able to find some answers, and then we'll know what questions to ask.”


	12. Chapter 12

Hardison lay on the floor with his head cushioned on a pile of books. He had another book propped up on his belly. It was big and heavy, but it had bits and pieces that teased at some of the answers they needed. He'd been flicking through it for about half an hour, absorbing the parts he thought might be important.

Cassie was nearby, sitting primly at the desk where she'd been sitting all day. Her head was bent over her own book, and she was completely silent. 

They'd been looking through books for hours. Even with the time difference, which Hardison couldn't be sure of because he had no idea where they were, it had to be getting pretty late. Before long, he and Cassandra would have to give up for the night. Hopefully, Sophie had saved them some supper because he was starving.

Just thinking how tired he was made him yawn. If he weren't so hungry, he'd bunk down among the books for the night.

When Cassandra's chair squeaked, he glanced over at her. Her back had straightened, and he could almost feel the excitement radiating from her body.

“Did you find something?”

“The books are there.” She turned and pointed towards the shelf her current stack of books had come from.

“I found this one on the sacrifice ritual over there.”

“These aren't about the ritual. This is a section on the Warrior Quartet itself. I think we need to read these. All of these.”

“Okay.” He set his book aside and rubbed at his eyes.

She didn't speak again, so he got up and went to get a book off of the shelf she'd indicated. There were lots to choose from, and most of them were in English. He took one at random.

Flipping open the cover, the first thing he saw was a drawing of the Warrior Quartet. Each piece was labeled with 'Mind', 'Heart', 'Strength', or 'Bravery'. Underneath the drawing was another of four fierce looking warriors. They, too, were labeled with the words 'Mind', 'Heart', 'Strength', and 'Bravery'. 

Hardison frowned, wondering how the two were connected. He turned pages until he got back to the beginning and began to read. At first, there was a lot of talk about something called the Serpent Brotherhood. He skimmed over that until...

“Skeletons.”

“Huh?” Cassie asked, turning around to look at him.

“The skeletons.” He pointed at the book. “I know what they mean.”

“Something about death?” she suggested.

“Yeah.” He looked down at the page. “But not bad.”

“There's good death?” She sounded incredulous.

He went over to her desk and put the book down. “Look.”

“The Serpent Brotherhood!” she said almost immediately.

“Sound familiar?”

“They're the ancient enemy of the Library,” she said absently as she read.

“And the Robes.”

“The skeletons represent the Robes laying down their lives to defeat the Serpent Brotherhood.” She summarized as she read. “These are supposed to be the good guys.”

“They have a strange way of showing it.” He took the book back.

“Let's find out what we can so we can tell Colonel Baird and the others.”

He nodded, already reading more. Now they were on the right track, they might find something to help after all.

XXX

As the night wore on and it got quite late, Eve, Stone, Sophie, and Eliot were reluctant to go to bed. Even though they were all exhausted and feeling the effects of a very stressful day, it had been hours since they'd seen Parker, and the others hadn't checked in since their first meal. It had been an unspoken agreement to wait until they couldn't anymore, in case one of the others showed up with needed information.

Eve sat at the table with Eliot, passing the time by telling him about some of the adventures she'd had with the Library. She avoided asking about his past, even though she was now sure he was the Eliot Spencer she'd heard about.

Stone and Sophie were each in one of the big chairs, both leaned back with eyes closed. Eve didn't know whether they were napping or just resting their eyes. 

Everything was quiet. They hadn't heard any robes passing their room for hours, and the only outside noises were ones you got in the countryside at night.

When the door rattled and burst open, the sudden sound had Eve jumping to her feet, not knowing what to expect but ready to defend the others. She was fast, but Eliot was faster. Both of them relaxed when it was obvious that their intruder was Jones. He stood in the doorway, his eyes a little wild and his face full of excitement. This was so unusual for the consistently bored Jones that Eve took a step forward.

He came in and closed the door behind him. Unlike everyone they'd seen in this place—besides one another—he was not wearing a robe.

“What's going on, Jones?” Stone demanded, opening his eyes and leaning forward.

“The Serpent Brotherhood,” he blurted.

“What?”

Eve instinctively reached for her gun, thoughts of Dulaque driving everything else from her mind.

Sophie glanced from Eve to Stone to Jones and back again. “Is this significant?”

“What's the Serpent Brotherhood?” Eliot demanded more directly.

“An ancient order dedicated to unleashing magic on the world,” Eve told them absently, her eyes still on Jones.

“That must be what Heart meant by the Children of the Serpent,” Sophie said.

Eve nodded.

“Are they here?” Stone asked.

“No. No.” Jones shook his head. “They're just what this is all about.”

Eve crossed the room and took him by the shoulders. When he looked up into her face, she said calmly, “Start at the beginning.”

She dropped her arms, and he sat on the free arm of Sophie's chair. “This place,” he waved a hand, “it was created to fight the Brotherhood. It's job was to send its best warriors to kill as many of the Brotherhood as they could. That was a long time ago, and the mission has changed.”

“Changed how?”

“They want to take over the Brotherhood and, through them, take over the world for themselves. It's brilliant.”

“And evil.”

“Maybe a little bit evil.”

“I don't understand,” Sophie said. “What does that mean?”

“The Brotherhood is the big bad of the magical world,” Stone told her, his face very serious. “They're trying to break the world.”

“How do you know about this?” Eliot went over to Jones and stared down at him. Jones flinched.

“It's all right,” Eve assured Jones. “He's on our side.”

Jones looked doubtful but continued, “There's a group who wants to get back to killing snake men. They call themselves the True Robes. I'm so awesome that they guessed I came from the Library. They want me to help them take out the High Robes. I told them I would.”

“Jones!” Eve threw her hands in the air. “Don't we have enough to worry about?”

“Baird wait,” Stone interrupted her, and she stopped to listen. “This here's our job. The other stuff—escaping death, breaking our connection to the Quartet, finding out if we can do magic, that's all secondary. We're supposed to save the world from magical objects. As much as I hate to say it, Jones is right. We've got to stop the High Robes from taking control of the Serpent Brotherhood.”

“Isn't breaking the High Robes control over the Warrior Quartet what we have to do to survive anyway?” Eliot pointed out. “Without the Quartet, they can't do anything. If they could, they would've done it already.”

“There's another issue,” Eve commented. “What if the True Robes' intentions are not what they seem? They could be worse than the High Robes.”

“I can find out,” Sophie said quietly.

Eve turned to her. “How?”

“Heart. She can tell a truth from a lie. What if I use my connection? She said it can be done, and I can talk to her now that I've touched the Bowl. You can talk to Bravery, can't you?”

Eve thought about the whispers in her mind that she had been trying to ignore. “Yes.”

“I'm sure she'll help us. After all, the Quartet wants freedom as much as we do.”

The door burst open again, this time revealing two robed figures. For a moment, everyone froze. Eve tried to quickly come up with a story explaining why a member of the kitchen staff was lounging in their room. She had just opened her mouth to speak when the shorter of the two robed figures pushed off her hood to reveal Cassandra. That's when Eve noticed the other figure was carrying books.

“Cassandra!”

“Hi. Sorry we're so late. I was afraid you'd be sleeping.”

“We were waiting for you.”

“Good because we found stuff.” She waved her arms. “Lots of stuff.”

“Information we can use?”

“Oh, yeah,” Hardison said from inside his cowl. “It's amazing what you can find out when someone points you in the right direction.”

“What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, he put his books down on the table in front of the artifacts. He struggled a bit with his robe, letting it slide down until it was in a pile at his feet.

“Pick that up, Hardison. You might have to wear that tomorrow,” Sophie told him sternly.

He looked sheepish but did what she said. “What are you all talking about?”

“How to break the connection between the Robes and the Quartet,” Stone said.

“Oh, I know how to do that. I know everything.”

“We,” Cassandra corrected, placing a hand on his arm, “know everything.”

“Uh, yeah. That's what I meant.”

Cassandra looked around the room”Should we wait for Parker?”

Eve thought about this before replying, “We can catch her up. Right now, I want to know what everything entails and how it will free us from the High Robes and save the world from being taken over by a new Serpent Brotherhood.”

“You know about the Serpent Brotherhood?”

Jones raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Courtesy of me.”

“What do you know?”

“I know all about the High Robes' plan for world domination.”

“Later,” Eve told him. “For now, let's see what Cassandra and Hardison have come up with.”

“Okay. Gather 'round,” Hardison said, an expression of superiority on his face. Eve couldn't tell whether the expression were real or fake.

When he went up to the table to pick up his books, Eve winced. “Use the eating table.”

“Why?”

“Damn it, Hardison,” Eliot growled. “Use your eyes.”

He glanced down at the Quartet. “What, these? They're harmless unless someone activates them, and that someone can't be me. Only a High Robe or someone who...well, someone like you...can do that.”

“Unless you open the lid of the Box,” Cassandra added. “That releases the curse.”

“Good point. I'll use the eating table.”

He carefully picked the books up and lugged them to the big table.

“All right, all eyes on me.”

Cassandra went up to stand beside him. “And me.”

“Somebody better start talking,” Jones drawled, “or I'm going to sleep.”

“Pay attention, Jones,” Eve told him, tapping him on the head. “This is important.”

She settled on the other arm, facing Cassie and Hardison. Sophie sat up so she could see around her, and Eliot settled on the floor, his back against the side of Stone's chair.

“Everyone comfy? Good.” Hardison picked up one of the books. 

“Get on with it, Hardison,” Sophie prodded.

“Okay.” He started checking to make sure they were all paying attention. “I'm sure you're all familiar with this symbol.” He opened one of the books and held it up to show a picture of a skeleton. “And Cassie tells me some of you know this, too.”

Eve recognized the symbol of the Serpent Brotherhood.

He went on to describe in more detail the history they'd heard from Ezekiel. Every once in awhile, Cassandra interjected something, but mostly she left it to Hardison.

“The Warrior Quartet was created because so many more of the Robes were dying than the Brotherhood,” Hardison explained. “The Brotherhood is nasty, and it plays dirty. Ten Robes died for every Brother. So, they called for volunteers. Cassie?”

Cassandra held up one of the books to show four figures so lifelike it wouldn't have been surprising to see them walk off the page.

“Four of their best warriors gave their souls to these things.”

Cassie scrambled to turn pages before holding up hand drawn representations of the Quartet.

“Heart. Mind. Strength. Bravery...”

“We know that, Hardison,” Eliot cut him off.

“Well, did you know that there are two ways to be connected to the Quartet, and that sacrifices weren't even part of the original concept? The people connected to the Quartet don't have to die.”

“Oh, I knew that last bit,” Sophie pointed out.

“Can I get back to my presentation, please?”

“Go ahead,” Eve told him.

“The thing is, the link was created so the Quartet could be used. That's how someone accesses the magic. The objects were given free will to choose their users based on certain personality traits. Y'all were chosen.” He pointed at Eve, Sophie, Eliot, and Stone. “They can only be connected with one person at a time like this.”

“But there's another way to access the magic,” Cassandra broke in.

He gave her a sideways look but just said, “Yes. The High Robes were given a backdoor. They have a way to temporarily access the Quartet's magic.”

Cassandra dug through the books until she found a small, red one. She held it up, but Eve couldn't see the picture she was trying to show them.

“We can cut their access by stealing the key.”

Ezekiel sat up straighter. “Steal?”

“Just so you know, there's some freaky power tied to these things. When the bond's strong enough, there's super strength, mind reading, super speed, and the power of truth, whatever that means. You guys might be able to use some of that if you need to.”

Eve nodded, remembering Sophie's words.

Cassandra almost danced in place. “Don't forget the warrior.”

He waved his hand at her. “I was getting to that.”

“Sorry.”

“If the Quartet is used together, it can create an unbeatable warrior, one that can't be touched, but who can kill as efficiently as, well, as efficiently as Eliot.”

Jones's head swung around to stare at Eliot. “Exactly how efficient is that?”

“Efficiently enough. You want to know more than that? Keep pushing me.”

“Enough,” Eve told them. “So, you're saying if we steal the key, the High Robes can't use the Quartet?”

“Yup.”

“Okay, guys, new plan.”

Everyone looked at her expectantly. 

“We steal the backdoor key from the High Robes to free the Quartet and take the Robes ability to control us away. We then use our bonds to help overthrow the High Robes with the Quartet's magic so we can put the True Robes into power. That way, the Quartet can go back to the purpose the Library created them for. Agreed?”

“Sure.” Ezekiel shrugged. “Easy, right?”

“Wait,” Cassandra held up a finger. “Um...who are the True Robes?”

XXX

Sophie was dreaming about being home curled up with Nate on the sofa when her world erupted around her.

“Sophie!” The whole bed jiggled as something bounded onto it.

“Bloody hell!” Sophie exclaimed as she was jolted out of sleep.

“Sophie, wake up.”

As Sophie reached for her wits, she realized the bouncing object was a very exuberant person. “Parker?”

“Why is everybody asleep? Aren't we supposed to be getting you guys out of here?”

“It's the middle of the night.” Sophie struggled to sit up.

Parker had stopped bouncing and was sitting calmly on the bed beside her. Sophie could just see her face in the soft moonlight coming through the window.

“What's going on?” Eve's tired voice came from the other bed. She sounded sleepy, but Sophie had a feeling at the first sign of danger she'd be wide awake.

“It's just Parker,” Sophie said quietly Cassandra was still snoring softly in the little nest she'd made for herself on the floor.

“Tell her to get some sleep. We've got big plans for her tomorrow.”

“What does she mean?” Parker asked, joining Sophie at the headboard.

“I'll tell you in the morning. Right now, I'm half asleep. Where've you been?”

“Exploring.”

“Exploring?”

“I had to wait until I was done in the kitchen. You wouldn't believe the woman with the wooden spoon. She's worse than Eliot!”

Sophie couldn't help the small smile that came to her face. “Did you find anything?”

“Maybe. I think so. There are a lot of rooms. No alarms or guards, though. There's some kind of weird thingy on the second floor. It made me feel funny.”

Sophie remembered that both Ezekiel and Hardison had mentioned this. “Did the Robes ask you any questions?”

“Nope. You were right. Servants are invisible.”

“Go to sleep.” This was Eve, and she sounded grumpy.

“Do you have a place for the night?” Sophie asked Parker. “Ezekiel and Hardison are on the floor in Eliot's room, and Cassandra is over there by the window.”

“Can I share with you?”

The bed was easily big enough for three people. “Sure, Parker. You don't snore, do you?”

“I don't know. I've never heard myself.”

“Because you would.”

Parker just smiled and slithered down until she was lying with her head on one of the pillows. Sophie tried to sigh but yawned instead. More slowly and with less enthusiasm, she shifted until she was also lying back down. Parker was closer than she needed to be, on her side and gazing at Sophie. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light.

“What?”

“I really miss you,” she said.

Sophie thought about her days with Leverage. It had been an exciting time where Nate made up all the plans and she watched over everyone to keep them safe. She missed being a part of that, missed that sense of family. Even though she loved her life with Nate, and she loved her acting classes and directing plays, sometimes she longed for the days when her life was full of adventure and every night she went to sleep knowing she'd made a difference.

“I miss you, too,” Sophie admitted. “Now, go to sleep.”

“Good night, Sophie.” Parker closed her eyes, looking like a peaceful child.

“Good night, Parker.”

Parker was asleep in seconds, but Sophie couldn't get back to sleep. The past and the future swirled together in her mind, and she couldn't shut off her thoughts. She lay there in the dark for what felt like hours before she finally drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we're down to just three more chapters after this!


	13. Chapter 13

“Do you think you can do it?” Baird asked Parker, who looked pert and well rested despite coming in late in the night.

“Sure.” Parker agreed without hesitation.

“Why her?” Jones protested, looking indignant. “I'm the best thief there is.”

“Actually,” Hardison argued, “Parker is the best.”

Baird raised her hand, forestalling any more conversation. “It doesn't matter who's the best. That's not your job today, Jones. Your job is to bring us a member of the True Robes. For some reason, they trust you.”

He grinned. “It's my awesome personality.”

“Whatever.”

“So, what are the rest of us going to do?” Cassandra asked.

“We can't do anything more until we break the High Robes' hold over us. Without the key, they can still tug on our connection, and we're powerless,” Baird explained. “It's not pleasant.”

“Not pleasant at all,” Sophie agreed.

Jake grimaced as he remembered the fiery agony in his gut.

“What about us?” Hardison indicated him and Cassandra.

“I want Cassandra to go with Ezekiel to show there's a team of Librarians here and not just Ezekiel. Hardison, you can go with Parker in case she needs back up. While you're gone, we're going to make contact with the Warrior Quartet to see what it can do to help us restore this place to its natural order.”

Jake wasn't quite sure how he felt about talking to the spirit of a centuries dead warrior who was trapped in the form of a box, but he knew he was the key to the whole thing. Mind was what made everything work. It would be stupid of him not to take advantage of that.

His eyes were drawn to the Box. Besides skeletons, it looked pretty harmless. It was hard to believe there was so much power inside.

“I just wish there was a way we could keep in contact,” Baird was saying, bringing Jake back to the conversation.

“There might be,” he said, remembering what he'd read in Hardison's book the night before.

She looked at him curiously. “How?”

“I might be able to do it through the Box.”

“It can do that?”

“I don't know.”

“Okay. Delay of the plan. Stone contacts the Box first to find out if he can use it to speak with Parker.” She paused, then added, “And add another quote to that rapidly growing list of things I thought I'd never say but end up saying in this job.”

“What if someone comes in?” Cassie asked. “They haven't brought your breakfast yet.”

“Jones, swing by the kitchen and see if you can delay them a half an hour. If you can't or the meal's already on its way, bring it yourself. Try to touch base with that girl.”

“Molly,” he supplied.

“Yes, Molly.”

“Since you were blindfolded the last time, maybe she could bring you and Cassandra back to meet the leaders of the High Robes.”

“We're going now?” Cassie straightened.

“Yes. Put on your robe and try to stay out of sight.”

“Walk behind him, as if it's a coincidence you're in the same corridor,” Sophie suggested.

Cassandra nodded and went to the bedroom to get her robe.

“So, exactly how does this work?” Jake asked Sophie.

“What?”

“Talking to it. How does it work?”

“Just touch the Box, and Mind should contact you.” She glanced at Baird.

“That's how it worked for me, too.”

“Then what?”

“It seems to be different for each of us,” Sophie told him. “Mind will come to you, and you will know what to do.”

“You can do this, Stone,” Baird added. “After this, you should be able to talk to it without even touching it.”

He frowned. “I don't really want the spirit of an ancient warrior mucking around in my head.”

Sophie squeezed his shoulder. “It already knows everything about you. You might as well use it.” When he looked incredulous, she added, “It will be fine.”

Somehow, when Sophie said it, he believed it, though he didn't know if she were conning him or whether she genuinely believed what she was saying.

As Jake went over to the Box, he had a feeling that Hardison's finding it hadn't been a coincidence. He would not put it past the Library to pull on the threads of probability so that Jake and Baird would come in contact with the Quartet. The Library was as sentient as the ancient artifacts themselves, and it would want to heal the wound the High Robes had created. Jake didn't trust much, but he trusted the Library. He felt a little more confident as he reached for the Box.

The others watched as he picked it up and settled into the chair. He ignored them and studied the Box. Jake brought it in close to his body. He could feel the ridges of the carving against his skin, and he was surprised at how light it was.

He waited a few minutes more for it to do something. When it didn't, he placed it in his lap and flipped open the top. The Box wasn't just empty or bottomless. It contained nothing. No sides. Certainly no bottom. It was just a black, empty pit. Jake had a flash of how the Robes had been able to turn that darkness into a doorway. One they'd somehow been able to bring the Box itself through afterward. Wondering how hurt his brain, so he just let it go and stared into a the black that was somehow deeper and darker than any black he'd ever seen before.

His stomach started to turn and flip. It wasn't the same agony that he'd felt when the Robes tugged on the connection, just a simple bout of nausea. He wondered if he'd have to let go of the Box to go throw up.

He didn't get a chance.

Suddenly, he was falling. He tipped forwards and somehow tumbled into the Box, even though it was still in his hands. He went face first into the blackness. With a little frantic maneuvering, he was able to right himself, but he was still falling, quickly at first, with wind whistling in his ears and pressing on his face. He yelled, but it was lost in the emptiness around him.

After a few seconds, his descent slowed, and he wasn't completely sure he was still falling. His only base of reference was that he hadn't landed yet.

“Jacob Stone.” The voice was deep and solemn. “Can you hear me?”

Jake stopped thinking about falling and stilled. He suddenly felt safe as a feeling of well being washed over him. It was as Baird and Sophie had described.

“Yes, I can hear you.”

“You know who I am.” It was not a question.

“You're the one called Mind. The one who controls the Quartet.”

Mind chuckled dryly. “Control, no. Team work. We work together to perform the tasks that we must. Apart, we are strong, together we are powerful. A combination of talents that together can destroy our enemy.”

“The Serpent Brotherhood.”

“Our enemy is your enemy.”

“Look, about that. We know about the High Robes being corrupted. We know that they want to use you to take over the Brotherhood instead of destroy it. You're as much prisoners as we are.”

“You are from the Library, and you want to do what's right.”

“We should work together.”

“You have a good mind, Jacob Stone, but you are not using all of it. Something holds you back. You are two people, the body and the mind. This is puzzling.”

“I was afraid,” he admitted. There was no use denying it. Mind could see into his head. “But I'm working on it. I'm a Librarian.”

“A fledgling but doing well.” Jake heard approval in Mind's voice. “We were created to be used through our links. You will have whatever it is you need.”

“I need to be able to talk to someone in another place. Can you do that?”

“With your direction, I can connect to other minds.”

“Does being connected to the High Robes this way hurt you like it does us?” he asked suddenly.

“You ask about the pain of something you consider an object?”

“I know you're self aware.”

“Yes, there is pain. Every time they ask us to do something we perceive as wrong, it hurts. We have no physical form, yet our minds are as strong as they ever were.”

“Don't worry, Bubba. We're going to turn power over to the True Robes.”

“Yes, I believe you will. You were all chosen for a reason. Just ask for the help you need.”

“Do I have to be touching the Box? Sophie said Heart can speak inside her head.” 

“Ah, Heart.” There was a feeling of warmth and affection. It took Jake a moment to realize it was coming form inside his own mind. “Take care of your Sophie. The heart often succeeds where strength and mind fail.”

“She's a liar.” He didn't even know why he said this.

“But with her own truths. Beneath her lies, there is the one great truth. She is love and kindness. Despite her lies, she is conscious of who she hurts and, deep down, she knows the one she hurts the most is herself. Like you, she is changing.”

“You talk as if you know her.”

“I know all three of your companions through my links to Heart, Bravery, and Strength. Eve Baird, who you admire and love fiercely, though it is not a romantic love. Eliot Spencer, the cousin who left you, taking all your hopes of ever breaking free of the life you hated and who, despite all this, you love like a brother. Sophie Devereaux, who is Sophie but is also not Sophie. They are good companions, and together you will break the High Robes hold on both us and the order they are supposed to serve.”

Jake realized Mind hadn't answered his question. “And can I contact you without touching the Box?”

“You can. You should be able to speak to me whenever there is need.”

Jake nodded as he absorbed this. “We've got a plan. It's got a chance of working.”

“I have seen your plan. Bravery has shown it to me. Your Eve Baird has a very organized mind.”

“Sometimes that's the only thing that keeps us all from dying.”

“You are used to thinking in abstracts. Remember, your mind is also capable of extreme focus. Practice thinking things through; Eve Baird may not always be with you. Her strength is bravery. The brave often have tragically short lives.”

The thought made him feel cold. “Can you see the future?”

“No. That is not one of our skills. It was observation only.”

Somewhat relieved, Jake said, “I've got to go so we can get started. How do I talk to Parker through my head?”

“Reach out to me, and I will make the link for you.”

“All right. Uh...thanks.”

The feeling of gently falling ended abruptly, and Jake could suddenly feel the chair beneath him and see the room around him. There was a chattering of voices. He heard Parker and Hardison, and Sophie and Baird, who were much quieter.

“Shut up, Hardison,” Eliot growled, which only made Hardison's and Parker's voices louder.

Smiling, Jake got up and placed the Box back on the table. As he did, the room grew quiet.

“What happened?” Baird quickly crossed the room. “Did you talk to it?”

“Yeah. He said after the first touch deepens the connection, we should be able to communicate and access the magic pretty easily. One of the things Mind can do is connect to the minds of others, so I should be able to talk to Parker.”

“Will you be able to read my mind?” she asked.

“Not if that's not my intention,” he said before admitting, “I don't think so.”

“Maybe you should try it before we send her out there,” Baird suggested.

“Like right now?”

“Yes.”

He knew it made sense, but actually trying to perform magic himself made him nervous. He'd used enough magical items during his time at the Library that he wasn't squeamish, but actually having the magic come from him was an alien thought.

“Okay, Parker, go in another room.”

“Which one?”

“Doesn't matter.”

“The bedroom? The bathroom?”

“Parker!” Eliot barked.

Hardison glared at Eliot briefly. “Go in the woman's bedroom, Parker.”

“Okay.”

Jake watched her go and waited until she couldn't see him then closed his eyes.   
Concentrating, he thought, “You there?”

“I am here,” Mind replied. “Relax and communication will be easier.”

Jake tried to unclench. “Sorry.”

“You wish to connect to the mind of Parker?”

“Yeah. Let's do this.”

“Just think about what you want to do. The magic should come. Not too hard. A light touch is best.”

Jake took a deep breath and thought of Parker. “Hello?”

“You're yelling in my mind!” was the reply. She didn't sound upset. She was also a little loud, and her thought was tinged with excitement.

“You can hear me?” He tried to send this a little more quietly.

“Loud and clear. Can you hear me?”

“Yes, Parker. I can hear you.”

“This is so cool. Can you see anything else in my head?”

He saw a sudden picture of Eliot punching out Santa Claus. “Only when you send it like that. I'm not looking at your thoughts.”

“Oh.” She sounded kind of disappointed.

“Come on out, and I'll tell the others it worked.”

“Okee dokey.”

Jake was shaking his head when he opened his eyes. Before he could say anything, Parker jumped out of the bedroom waving her arms. “It worked!”

“You heard him?” Sophie asked for clarification.

“And he heard me.”

“Great,” Hardison said. “Then let's go steal us a magic backdoor.”


	14. Chapter 14

As they waited for Ezekiel and Cassandra to return, Sophie, Eve, and Jacob munched on the breakfast brought to their room by a skinny, dark haired boy. While they ate, Eliot went over and picked up the statue of the beast. Sophie watched as his body stiffened and his face went blank.

The food was mostly gone before he blinked and expression came back to his face. He frowned fiercely, but his hands were gentle as he put Strength back on the table. Looking up, he met Sophie's gaze. His eyes were troubled and a little sad.

Uncomfortable with his vulnerability, she tossed him an apple. “Eat something.”

He caught it deftly, smiling slightly, and settled into the nearest chair. Nonchalantly, he draped a leg over the arm and took a loud bite of the apple.

“What did it say?” Eve asked quizzically.

He chewed and swallowed. “Nothing new.”

Sophie could tell Eve wanted to ask him more, but she was interrupted by the opening of the door.

Ezekiel sauntered in, looking smug. He was trailed by two small red haired women—one of them Cassandra—and two men. One was tall, at least 6”3, and young, the other was older with a kind face.

“Okay, guys,” Ezekiel announced, “meet your friendly neighborhood sacrifices.”

He came over to the table and swiped some grapes from the breakfast spread.

“Ezekiel says that you are from the Library,” the kindly man said, “and that you've finally come to help us remove the cancer that the High Robes have become.”

Sophie glanced at Eve before going forward. 

“Yes,” she said smoothly, taking his hand. “I'm Sophie, and these are my associates—Eve, Eliot, and Jacob.”

The man had a firm handshake, and his gaze was steady as he looked into Sophie's face.

“I'm Mark, and these are John and Molly. We were told you had some questions.”

Sophie didn't need Heart's help to see he was fairly honest. She had doubts about his companion, who shifted uneasily under her gaze. The woman was silent and not as easy to read.

“Come in.” She continued to hold his hand, drawing him to the table. “Sit down and tell us about what's been going on. We want to know about the High Robes' plan and how the True Robes have been working against it.”

Eliot glared at John and indicated a chair. John paled and sat. Sophie wasn't sure if he blanched because of Eliot's expression or because Eliot was the Beast.

“We'll want to pay attention to that one when he speaks,” Sophie sent the thought off to Heart. Communicating had become easy with practice, and she felt Heart's approval even though there were no words.

“You're all really Librarians?” Molly asked. “I thought there was only one.”

“We're branching out,” Eve told her dryly. “Have a seat.”

She took the third of the four wooden chairs. Sophie took the forth one and sat directly in front of Mark. He looked a little uncomfortable, but it seemed to be mostly because of her proximity.

“About the sacrifices...” she said.

Mark's expression grew briefly grim. “Another perversion by the High Robes to prevent anyone but them from using the Quartet's power.”

“That's our understanding as well.”

“You have nothing to fear from us.”

“We've heard Ezekiel's version of what's going on. We'd like to hear yours.”

“You know why the Robes were established in the first place?”

“Yes. Please start with how things have changed.”

He nodded and started talking. His story was much like the one he'd given Ezekiel the day before, the one that had already been confirmed by the Quartet.

Even though Sophie was sure he was telling the truth as he knew it, she used her new found gift from Heart to confirm it. She'd been told she'd hear something like a jarring, off-key chime in her head when someone lied to her. She nodded sagely as he spoke, not interrupting until he started winding down.

“And did you have a plan?” she asked.

“We've been sabotaging them in little ways, but they are stronger than we are. True Robes never rise to High Robes. We're always found out and eliminated.”

“Spies,” Eliot suggested.

“Huh?”

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. They keep you around so you won't get suspicious, then get rid of anyone who is on the path to gain any real power.”

“We've never been able to verify the existence of spies.”

Playing a hunch, Sophie turned to John. “What are your thoughts on whether spies have been invading the True Robes?”

He shook his head. “I don't see how they could.”

The chime was unmistakeable. It was nice to see that retirement hadn't dulled her people reading skills. “Are you sure?”

He looked startled as he met her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“How did you come to join the True Robes, John?”

“My cousin, James, invited me.”

Eliot, who was standing behind him, knelt to ear level and said, “Is he a spy, too?”

Mark jerked back in surprise. “John?”

“I'm not a spy. I'm not. You surely don't believe them!”

The chimes were louder this time, three in quick succession. John tried to get up, but Eliot laid a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Easy,” Eliot said quietly, his voice laced lightly with menace.

“Mark,” Sophie calmly met his gaze, “do you know what individual power Heart has?”

“It's truth.” He wore a shell shocked expression. Beside him, Molly had turned paper white beneath her freckles.

“I know John is lying. Think back over the time you've known him. Has he done anything suspicious?”

“All the plans we make with him fall apart.” His eyes widened in horror.

“No, Mark. She's making it up.”

“Why would she do that?” Eve finally spoke. She was leaning against the table with her arms crossed. “What possible reason would she have to discredit you?”

“She wants to save her life. You're probably not even Librarians.”

“Would the Quartet have chosen us if it didn't think we were the best people to get the job done?” Jacob asked quietly.

Mark slowly shook his head, his wide eyes still on John. “What have you done?”

John's desperate expression turned angry. “There's a whole world out there!”

“What?”

“A world we're not allowed to see. We stay here in our safe little bubble while the world goes on around us. We play with small magics that don't really do anything. Yes, we've started wars. We've killed kings. But, in the end, we're still stranded here. When we rule the Brotherhood...”

“So, it really is true?” Molly interrupted, her voice high and tight.

His gaze went to her. “Molly...”

“I trusted you.” She rose from her chair. “I believed in you. I loved you. We were going to save the world from the Brotherhood together.”

“From here. To do that, we'd have to stay here. Can't you see that?”

“You want to be a High Robe.” She recoiled in horror.

“I want to be a part of what happens in the world.”

“You want to do evil.” Mark no longer looked uncertain or shocked. A hardness had come to his face that looked strange on his kind features.

“Who can say what's good and what's evil?” John argued.

“I'm sorry that I let him know about you,” Mark turned to Sophie.

She'd been watching their exchange with interest, wondering what this meant for their plan.

“We can't let him go to the others,” Eve said. “Is there any way you can contain him until after we're done?”

Mark's attention turned to her. “He'd just escape. We'll have to kill him.”

“Kill him?” Sophie asked. “Are you sure?”

“No. We don't have to kill him.” Jacob looked thoughtful. “We just have to take his magic away.”

“Take away his magic?”

“It's not possible,” Mark argued.

“The Quartet can do it.”

Mark started, almost as if he'd forgotten the Quartet could work through them.

“The Quartet can remove magic?” Eve asked, something obviously taking place in her brain. “Can it do more than one person at once?”

“One thing at a time,” Eliot told her. To Jacob, he said, “What do we have to do to neutralize this guy?”

John was squirming under his hand. “No. You can't. Just kill me.”

Jacob paused as if listening. “We have to all do it together. We need to allow Mind to draw on our connections. It's different for everybody. You'll have to ask Strength how you do it.”

Eliot looked uncomfortable at the thought but nodded. John wiggled more, and Eliot put his other hand on John's other shoulder. Sophie winced at how tightly he was holding him.

“Are you still there?” she asked in her mind. “What do I have to do?”

“Think about John. Think about the people he wants to hurt. Let me take those thoughts and give them to Mind to weave with those of the others.”

“Will it hurt?”

“No. It will feel warm, almost tingly...and no, before you ask, they will not be able to read your thoughts. Only Mind alone will be able to do that.”

“What about Jacob?”

“He may see glimpses, but only of the thoughts you'll be projecting.”

Sophie nodded and saw that Mark was watching her curiously. Aloud, she asked, “Should we do it now?”

“Do we want to risk this guy getting away?” Jacob had a good point.

“Of course not.”

“You can do it just like that?” Mark snapped his fingers.

“Wait, Mark. Wait,” John pleaded. “We've been friends for two years. Imagine what losing magic is like. Do you really want to do that to me?”

“You want to unleash evil on the world.” His tone was frosty. Looking at Sophie, he said, “Do it.”

She glanced at Jacob.

“I think I can, if we all do what we're supposed to,” he answered her unvoiced question.

“All right, then,” Eve said decisively. “Let's give this a try.”

Sophie closed her eyes because it was easier for her to visualize that way. She did as Heart had instructed, thinking of the pain and suffering that the Quartet in the wrong hands could unleash. She didn't know much about magic, so her thoughts weren't very graphic until images that were not her own swirled through her mind. Her stomach prickled in horror as she saw death after death with the High Robes looking on, motionless in their dusky robes.

There was sudden warmth, like a hug. It didn't dim the pictures, but it made them more bearable. It was followed by a soft feeling of flowing, as if her mind had turned to a river. This only lasted for a few seconds before Heart announced, “It is done.”

Feeling a little stunned, Sophie blinked open her eyes. Her friends were also looking a bit shaky, even Eliot.

John was softly sobbing.

“Here,” Eliot's voice cracked as he addressed Mark, “take him somewhere he can't hurt anybody.”

Mark eyed his former friend critically. “I don't think he's in any shape to hurt anyone now.”

Molly was silently staring at John, an unreadable expression on her face. Sophie went to her and put a soothing hand on her back.

“Are you all right?”

“An hour ago, the world made sense.”

“It will make sense again, if you let it.”

“How do I do that?”

She was trembling, so Sophie put a loose arm around her. “Just keep fighting for what you believe is right. It does wonders.”

“What about John?”

“He's made his decision and only he can decide which side of the fight he wants to be on.”

Molly twisted to see Sophie's face. “Do you think it's possible for him to change?”

“Anything is possible, Molly, even a bad guy turning into one of the good guys. It's up to you to decide if you want to spend time waiting for him.”

John was still quietly sobbing as Mark roughly drew him to his feet. Mark's face was still stormy, and Sophie had a feeling John's life was going to be highly unpleasant from then on.

“Wait,” Eve said. “Don't go yet.”

He stopped and everyone looked at her.

“I think I've figured it out. Stone, has Parker stolen the backdoor yet?”

His eyes went out of focus for an instant before he said, “Almost.”

“Tell her to abort. The plan's changing.”

“What?”

“I know how we're going to fix everything.”

He drifted away again before saying out loud, “Just do it, Parker.”

“Tell her to think of this as practice.”

“Do you want her to come back here?”

“The sooner the better. I have a very special job for her.”

XXX

That night, all eight of them sat in the women's room to once more discuss the plan they'd made with Mark and Molly. It was risky and had to be timed just right. A lot depended on Parker.

Eve sat cross legged on her bed with Cassandra, Parker, and Hardison. Across from her, on Sophie's bed, sat Sophie, Eliot, Stone, and Jones.

“Do you think this is really going to work?” Jones asked. “If it doesn't, you all die.”

“And the Serpent Brotherhood gets the power of the Quartet,” Cassandra added gloomily.

“We're not going to fail,” Eve assured them, trying to sound convinced.

Sophie's eyes snapped to hers, so she knew the other woman guessed her doubts. 

“What if Parker can't get the backdoor?” Stone asked.

“She can get it,” Hardison said, putting his arm around Parker.

“I can,” she agreed.

“The Quartet has already said it can be done,” Eve told them, shifting a little to get more comfortable.

“How much do they really know?” Jones demanded. “They're just objects.”

“They're not just objects.” Eliot sounded even crankier than usual.

“It makes me nervous that we're cutting it so close,” Cassie admitted.

“That can't be helped.” Eve lightly patted her shoulder. “It has to happen on the day of the sacrifice. That's the only day all of the Robes will be in the same room.”

“I know, but I don't like it.”

“Look, Cassandra, we've pulled off tougher jobs than this.”

“It's going to be fine,” Sophie echoed, glancing at Parker. “We can do this.”

“And if we can't, you'll just be horribly sacrificed,” Jones put in.

“Jones,” Eve groaned.

“Always the optimist.” Stone elbowed him.

“Ow. Easy, mate.”

“What do we do while we're waiting?” Parker asked. “We can't just sit in here staring at the wall. We'll go crazy.”

“ _Go_ crazy?" Eliot scoffed.

“Behave, Eliot.” Sophie tapped him on the arm.

“You and Jones already have jobs in the kitchen. Use them to see if the High Robes have any idea what we're going to do,” Eve told her calmly.

“And us?” This was Hardison.

“See if you can find any information we don't already know.”

“So, now we just...?”

“Sleep,” she said, looking around at faces full of exhaustion and worry. “We didn't get much last night. It will be the best thing for us. Tomorrow is going to be a long, stressful day just because it's going to consist entirely of waiting. Let's be ready to face it without tearing one another's heads off.”

“Does this mean the men are dismissed?” Stone sounded amused.

“Unless you want to deal with my snoring.”

“You don't snore,” Parker said, “but you do wake up grumpy.”

Cassandra laughed and clasped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”

Eve rolled her eyes but secretly felt amused. After only two days, she'd come to really like Sophie, Eliot, Parker, and Hardison. She knew she'd do her best to make sure everyone stayed alive. Eliot was determined to sacrifice himself if nothing else worked, but Eve already knew that, if it came down to it, it was her job to give her life to protect everyone in her charge. No matter what they thought or felt about this, she would do it without question. And she would have no regrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more chapter to go!


	15. Chapter 15

The morning of the sacrifice dawned bright and sunny. Eliot hoped it was a sign that Eve's plan would work. For it, they were depending on the help of ancient dead warriors who resided in antique wooden carvings. The idea seemed absurd, but there was no denying they might not succeed otherwise. 

As Eliot turned from the window, he thought about his meeting with Strength. Even now, the memory made him uncomfortable. The experience had been one he wasn't quite willing to share, so he kept it inside, trying to come to terms with what had happened.

_Eliot picked up the statue of the beast, refusing to be intimidated. Everything around him immediately got foggy and fuzzy, and he blinked his eyes to clear them. He blinked several times and, in between one breath and the next, his surroundings changed._

_The room and his friends disappeared, leaving Eliot alone on a desolate landscape. Cracked earth, hungry for moisture, stretched as far as the eye could see. The only thing that interrupted its vast emptiness was a large lake. Its waters were red, and Eliot felt a twinge of shock when he realized it wasn't water. Water wasn't thick and clingy. It didn't smell like death. An air of sadness and despair joined the scent of death and decay, and a ball of tension settled in Eliot's chest._

_The blood of the lake parted, and a beast appeared. It was as fierce and ugly as the statue that represented it, and its fur was dry and almost blindingly white._

_Eliot felt himself falter at Beast's ferocity, but he refused to run._

_“Eliot Spencer,” it said, stalking forward and showing sharp teeth. The voice was harsh and rough but not unkind._

_“This is one hell of a greeting,”Eliot told it, his tone almost as harsh._

_“You see what you feel you deserve.”_

_“What are you talking about?”_

_“Guilt and sadness. A lake of blood that will never dry or become clean again. This is a reflection of your soul.”_

_Eliot swallowed at the grim starkness of it. Seeing himself this way made his stomach roll and bile come up his throat. He closed his eyes to block it out, hating himself and hating what he'd done to his soul._

_He was surprised to feel a warm puff of air on his face. It took a moment to realize that it was Beast's breath. It should have smelled like rot, but instead it smelled like jasmine. The warmth and peace that the others spoke of wrapped around him._

_“Open your eyes, Eliot.”_

_Unwilling to be a coward, Eliot forced his reluctant lids to obey. He opened them and looked down at his feet. A little green stalk had struggled out of the baked earth, and a small leaf was fighting to uncurl. The stalk wasn't very tall, but it was healthy and vibrant._

_Eliot stared at the plant, admiring its strength and determination to grow. It seemed like a long time before he could turn away to glance at the beast, questions in his eyes._

_Beast didn't answer them. Instead, it spoke of magic and High Robes, and the Brotherhood. Eliot listened carefully, but, when he returned to the others, it was that little splash of green that he took back with him._

Every time he spoke to the Beast in his mind, he thought of the bleakness in his soul, but he also thought of the hope that had taken hold and started to grow. That was too private even to share with Jake.

Shaking his head, Eliot brought himself back to the present. It was early, so he left Ezekiel, Jake, and Hardison sleeping and went into the main room. Eve and Sophie were already there, sitting at the table quietly, still in their nightclothes, with big, white, fluffy robes over top.

Sophie smiled at him sleepily, and his heart ached briefly at how beautiful she was in the morning.

Eve said quietly, “They should be here soon, but I wanted to give the others just a little more sleep. It's going to be a big day.”

He nodded, joining them at the table and taking a seat between them.

“This place would be more bearable with coffee.”

“Coffee would be good.”

“No one should have to go to their own sacrifice without coffee,” Sophie added, looking down at where her arms were crossed on the table. There were slight lines at the corners of her eyes and dark circles underneath from the strength of her worry. Eliot wanted to touch her to give her support, but he hesitated. She was a toucher, but he wasn't really, and he didn't want it to be awkward.

“What time is it?” Parker came into the room yawning, already dressed for the day.

“Early.” Sophie's smile was back, but Eliot thought it was a little strained at the edges.

“Do we get to eat?”

“You're better off to go to the kitchen,” Eve told her. After a pause, she added, “We should probably wake up the others.”

That took less time than it should have. Everyone was wound tight, and no one tried to linger in bed. After one last pep talk from Eve and Sophie, Hardison, Parker, Ezekiel, and Cassandra slipped out so they'd be gone when the Robes came. 

After the younger four left, the rest of them were quiet. There wasn't much more to say. Sophie and Jake would have the most active roles in what was to come. If it all went to hell, Eliot and Eve would have to step in and act.

It wasn't much longer before eight people entered. Four of them were wearing their hoods up, and the other four—obviously servants—wore them down.

Eliot itched to fight them. He wanted to punch and punch and keep punching until there was no one left. Only the knowledge that this would screw up the plan kept him calm. Eve was scowling, and he knew this kind of compliance was probably almost as grating on her as it was on him.

“Come with us, please.” This servant was a soft spoken woman who looked to still be in her teens. She had big, sad eyes and gaunt cheeks.

Eliot walked towards them, feeling tension in every part of his body. He said nothing and neither did Jake, Sophie, or Eve. Though it was impossible to tell whether the Robes were male of female, the servants were two of each. The teenager who'd spoken went to stand beside Sophie, but she didn't look into her face. Eliot's servant was chubby with a pleasant face. He nodded at Eliot solemnly, his face respectful.

When Eliot, Sophie, Jake, and Eve each had a servant shadow, the silent Robes surrounded them, and they were led to communal baths. The women went in one direction, Sophie catching Eliot's hand briefly as she was led away, and the men in another.

The room was of white marble, which wasn't a surprise. In the middle of the room was a rectangular pool. Steam came from it, and shelves along the sides held shampoo, soap, and scrubbing implements.

“Please disrobe,” the servant assigned to him said, his voice as serious and respectful as his gaze.

Eliot glanced at Jake, who shrugged, before starting to remove his clothes. Both of them had played sports, so it wasn't the first time they'd been naked in front of other men.

The hot water stung as Eliot waded into it as far as his waist. Steam rose around him, and it clung to him like fingers. The servants didn't bother to remove their robes as they joined Jake and Eliot, and the garments floated around them like dark clouds.

Eliot's servant took some stuff from the ledge and approached him. He eyed the soap and the long handled brush warily. “Whatever you're planning to do with those, don't.”

“We were instructed to scrub your bodies clean.”

“If you try to scrub me, my fist will be the last thing you see until tomorrow.”

The servant took a step back.

“You're not the right gender or nearly beautiful enough for me to let you wash me.”

The servant glanced at the Robes watching them, and his face went pasty. Eliot took pity on him.

“Give me the brush and the soap, and I'll scrub myself. You can supervise, and I'll let you wash my hair.”

The servant glanced at the Robes again and took a shaky breath when one of them nodded.

Eliot reached out and took the brush and soap from the servant's hand. He spent the next few minutes scrubbing himself until his skin felt raw. Jake had taken advantage of Eliot's rebellion and was also scrubbing himself. When the servant was finally satisfied that his body was clean enough, Eliot allowed his hair to be soaped and rinsed. The servant was especially vigorous when scrubbing his scalp, and Eliot wondered if it was to pay him back for being stubborn.

Finally, Eliot and Jake were led back out of the pool. After a glare from Eliot, his servant allowed him to dry himself and held out a robe made of smooth white silk.

“You want me to wear that?” he asked incredulously.

“It is required.”

Eliot took it and looked it over critically. It was soft between his fingers, but it would only reach the middle of his thigh.

“It couldn't be just a little longer?” Jake complained. He already had on his robe, and he was tugging at the hem.

“It is the traditional dress,” the other servant told him. “All sacrifices must wear these.”

“It looks drafty,” Eliot said, but slipped it on. He hoped a gust of air wouldn't come along and show the whole room his ass.

When they were led from the bathing chamber, four more Robes were waiting for them. These all had the extra embroidery of the High Robes, which meant they were the ones assigned to accompany the sacrifices to the ceremony. Eliot scowled at them and hoped Parker knew what she was doing.

It was a few minutes before the women came out of the next room. Eliot gaped at Eve. She was only two or three inches taller than he was, but that couple of inches made a big difference on such a short robe. Hers looked more like a long shirt, and it barely covered what it was meant to cover. Her extremely long and perfectly shaped bare legs looked like something out of his more erotic fantasies.

Jake elbowed him, and Eliot forced himself to look up into Eve's face. Sophie was looking petulant beside her and was wearing her robe as if it were evening wear.

“What?” Eve asked irritably. “I know it's short. I hope a gust of wind doesn't come along and show everyone my ass.”

Eliot laughed as she echoed his own thoughts, and her face got stormier.

“We won't have to wear them very long,” Sophie said. She was rosy from her scrubbing,and her belt was tied lightly, as if she didn't care if it came undone. Sophie being Sophie, she probably wouldn't care if she were walking around naked as long as she had control of the situation.

“What?” Eliot demanded.

“Oh, didn't you know? We have to be naked for the sacrifice. Once we get on stage, we'll have to drop our robes.

“What?” Jake echoed, pulling his more firmly around him.

No wonder Eve was looking so stormy.

Eliot glanced at the Robes behind him. He let all of his displeasure show on his face. Connection or no connection, pain or no pain, if someone tried to take his robe from him, they'd get a punch in the face.

XXX

Parker waited impatiently outside of the magic room. She fidgeted as she waited, not liking that so much depended on someone she didn't even know.

Just when she was starting to think he wasn't going to show, a robed figure came down the hallway. Its hood was up, so she wasn't sure it was Mark. She tensed in case it wasn't.

Through him, they had learned that the Backdoor would be almost easy to snatch if you had one magic user and one outsider to do the job together. Only Robes and High Robes could open the door to the room where all the dangerous magical objects were kept, but only someone born of no magic at all—which, because their village was so small, meant no one in the enclave, including servants—could actually touch the Backdoor. It sat on a special pedestal that connected its energy to just a handful of High Robes. Those High Robes were the only ones who could touch it without dying horrible deaths. Parker found the horrible deaths intriguing, and she wanted to know if the people melted.

Since Mark could get her into the room, and Parker could steal the Backdoor, but neither of them could go down the stairs with it, they'd have to hide after it was stolen until Jacob and Sophie did what had to be done.

When the figure got almost to her, it flipped its hood back to reveal the leader of the True Robes. Mark looked around furtively, showing he was an amateur at sneaking. Parker was okay with that. She liked that he was an honest man. Before Nate, Parker hadn't really trusted anyone who claimed they were honest. Since then, she'd met many good people, and she'd come to appreciate honesty.

Mark put his hand on the door and it opened easily. If Parker would have tried, it would have shocked her and stayed resolutely shut.

“Stay out here,” Parker hissed, “and, if anybody comes, come and tell me.”

“Everyone's supposed to be at the sacrifice.”

“And yet here we are.”

He nodded in understanding.

The room that held the Backdoor was full of interesting treasures, and the most interesting thing of all was the magical security systems. Parker took a minute to let her gaze wander over everything, wishing she had time to take what she wanted. It would be fun to see if she could beat the magical protections. Maybe Mark would let her play with them when this was over. The thought cheered her, so she almost skipped over to the table where the backdoor sat. It was small and unassuming, but it was still pretty. A sphere of perfect glass, it seemed to hold all of the colors of the rainbow in its depths. It sat on a serious looking pedestal, nestled in a perfectly sized indentation. Parker knew, from both Hardison and Mark, that the moment she plucked it from the hole, its connection to the High Robes would be broken.

Reaching out, she felt a tingling against her skin. Parker paused to see if they'd been wrong and she'd melt, but nothing happened. In satisfaction, she snatched the globe. She couldn't help being a little disappointed that it had been so easy. Apparently, the Robes thought only magic users would try to steal it.

The backdoor was cool and smooth against her skin. It felt good in her hand. Reluctantly, she slipped it into the pocket of her robe.

“Jacob?” she said tentatively in her mind, reaching out to him.

“Parker?” His voice came through clearly. “Did you get it?”

“Yup. It's in my pocket.”

“Just in time.”

“Why? What's going on?”

“No time to talk. You're sure you've got it?”

Parker opened her pocket and looked inside. “Sure do.”

“Okay. Get out of there so me and Sophie can get started.”

“Leaving now.”

She went to the door and knocked sharply. Mark opened it, and she slipped out.

“Okay,” she said to him. “Got it. Let's go find somewhere to lay low until it's all over.”

XXX

The first thing Eve noticed about the room was that it was full of people. They were all talking, and the sound of so many voices together was almost deafening.

The High Robe beside her raised his hand, and one clear, vibrating note from a gong filled the air. There was immediate silence. Countless pairs of hidden eyes turned in their direction, and Eve pulled self consciously at the hem of her robe.

“Do not try anything, Bravery,” the High Robe leaned towards her to say quietly. “Remember what we can do to you, to your friends. Heart will break under the agony. Strength will turn into a true beast.”

She nodded, even though she had a strong impulse to spit in his face. Or maybe it was to break his nose. In a perfect world, she'd be free to do both. 

Eve caught Eliot's eye and saw his tolerance was almost at an end. If they didn't get on with it, he might forget about waiting for Stone's cue and lunge for somebody. She gazed at him steadily until she was sure that he had his temper under control.

“What do you want us to do?” she asked the High Robe.

“Soon, the gong will chime again, and the crowd will part. The four of you will make your way to the stage. Once there, you will follow our directions. If you try to fight your fate, it will be worse for you.”

Eve wondered if he would calmly accept his own fate.

The gong went off again and, as her captor had said, the crowd began to split down the middle. This was done in absolute silence. The High Robe took her arm and, after allowing Stone and his High Robe to go first, started leading her down the path cleared by the Robes. The feeling in the room was solemn.

The walk to the stage was the longest walk of Eve's life. She knew that if Parker was unable to break the High Robe's choke hold on the Quartet, death waited at the end. She hadn't really known Parker long enough to know if she could rely on her, but Eliot, whom she respected, seemed to trust her.

In front of her, Stone stared straight ahead, not bothering to look at the crowd. Eve didn't have that much self discipline. The sea of hooded figures seemed more like ghosts than people.

She was just mounting the steps and passing the man with the gong, when she heard Stone's voice in her head. “Baird!”

They had practiced this some, so she wasn't startled, though it still felt strange. “What is it?

“Parker's got the thing.”

The knot that had been tightening in her middle relaxed. “Okay, we'll get started as soon as we're in position. Is Sophie ready?”

“Yes, she and Heart are ready to lend their gift to mind. You can connect with Bravery any time. If we're lucky, it'll all go without a hitch.”

“Let's not trust it to luck. Where are the others?”

“Cassie and Jones and Hardison are in the crowd. They're ready to help if things go pear shaped.”

“I don't know how much use they'll be against this crowd, but the True Robes should be scattered out there, too. Surely, they'll realize that we're liberating the Quartet. How's Eliot?”

“Cranky.” 

“No surprise. Tell him to be ready. In a worse case scenario, he may need to use Strength to help get us out of here.”

“He knows. We all know. Relax, Baird.”

She'd relax when it was all over, and they were on their way back to civilization.

Stone and Eve were led across the stage while Eliot and Sophie were held on the other side. Since they were facing each other, Eve studied Sophie's face. It seemed uncharacteristically bland and neutral, which may have been a sign she was talking to Heart.

High Robes flanked her and Stone, one on each side, and they did the same to Sophie and Eliot. In the expectant hush that followed, Eve reached out to Bravery so he could draw what strength he needed from her to lend to Mind. The silence continued for several seconds before another robed figure made its way onto the stage. It went to the centre and held up its hands. When it was sure all eyes were upon it, it reached up and removed its cowl. A bald man was revealed. He had a long white beard and a pleasant face.

“Hello, again, Brothers and Sisters.” His voice was so loud, Eve was sure it was amplified by magic. “The day of sacrifice has finally come, and, as you can see, the mortal embodiments chosen to give their lives for the Quartet are ready.” He gestured first at Eve's side of the stage and then at Sophie's. “Let me present to you Mind, Bravery, Heart, and Strength. We will start with Heart, who is both the strongest and the weakest, and end with Mind, who ties everything together.”

Most of the Robes were nodding their heads. Eve wished she could see their faces.

“Please bring the Quartet.”

Four Robes moved through the crowd. Each one carried an artifact in his or her hands. There was more silence until the Robes mounted the stage. They stood at the back, waiting to be called on. Eve felt nervous energy tingle in her arms and legs. The time was nearing and, even after power was taken from the High Robes, things could still go very wrong. It would take a few minutes for what happened to dawn on them, and there was no way to know what the True Robes would do.

“Now, we will begin. Heart, please step forward and remove your robe.”

Sophie went to the front of the stage without prompting and stood staring out at the crowd. The Robe holding the Bowl came forward and placed it in front of her. Off to the side as she was, Eve could clearly see most of Sophie's face.

Sophie slowly untied the belt of her robe, her face serene; she looked like a woman about to get into her bathtub, not one who was about to be sacrificed. She opened her robe and reached up to slip it from her shoulders but stopped before completing the motion.

“No,” she said calmly.

A ripple of anger went over the speaker's face before he was able to smooth it away.

Sophie smiled a beatific smile and turned to look at Stone. Giving him a slight nod, she raised her hands. “I will not be sacrificed.”

“It is our will; it is the will of the Warrior Quartet,” he boomed. “If you do not disrobe and bow, you will be forced to do so.”

“Only one of those three things is correct. Of the other two, one you know is a lie, and the other you think is truth.”

All eyes were on Sophie. She stood there, her arms raised, as silent as the Robes watching her. The air of expectation in the room rose, and no one moved, not even the Robes on the stage.

“Robes of the Enclave, listen to me,” she started when the tension in the air was so tight that it hurt. “The sacrifices in the name of the Warrior Quartet will stop, and they will stop right now. The Quartet will not tolerate the blood of one more innocent. You have been saying for centuries that you know what the Quartet wants, but these words have all been lies. In your arrogance, you have turned from your true purpose, turned form light to dark, from good to evil. The Quartet has watched you silently. They are objects, but they are objects with a purpose. Objects with a soul. And they can see into your hearts.”

There was noise at the back of the stage, and Eve turned her fascinated gaze from Sophie. She'd never seen anyone with such an ability to captivate a crowd. 

The leader of the Robes was gesturing to Sophie's guard, and the guard was shaking his head violently. As if feeling them behind her, Sophie turned.

“It's no use,” she told them. Even though her voice was no longer booming, it cut through the room. “Your control over the Quartet has been broken. It no longer listens to anyone with a Robe. It has been freed.”

There were voices now. They started as a low rumble that went quickly through the crowd. The white bearded man strode forward with purpose. There was fiery anger in his eyes.

Eliot stepped in front of him. “I wouldn't.”

“You can't stop me,” he snarled. “I'll shut her up with magic, if I have to.”

“When we have control of the Quartet? How do you think that will go?”

The leader of the High Robes just gaped at him speechlessly.

“Listen to her. You might be interested in what she has to say.”

Sophie turned back to the crowd, not waiting to see if the High Robe complied. Eve kept one eye on them and one on Sophie.

“The society of Robes is corrupt. High Robes. Robes. Novices. Where once you fought the Serpent Brotherhood to save the world from its influence, now you wish to rule it. You want to break the world for your own profit. Did you think the Quartet would allow that? Did you think the Library would? The Warrior Quartet can see inside of you, and it knows which of you are traitors. You must be punished so that you will never hurt anyone again.”

She closed her eyes and dropped her arms. Bowing her head, she folded her hands in front of her, resting them against her bare stomach.

The leader of the Robes made a desperate lunge at her. Eliot caught him and started beating on him. The murmurs had died down again, and the only sound was that of flesh on flesh. Sophie didn't move. Eve was surprised nobody broke and ran. That was how complete Sophie's spell over the gathered crowd was.

“It's done,” Stone said harshly as Eliot finished, leaving the Robe unconscious on the floor.

Sophie opened her eyes, and the serenity was back in her face. “The Warrior Quartet has handed out your punishment. It is harsh yet merciful. Everyone who wished to join the Brotherhood in order to rule it will never rule anything by magic again. Your magic has been taken from you...”

She was interrupted then as panic broke out in the room. Robes desperately tried magic and, when it didn't work, tried it again.

As the Robes on the stage with them discovered their own lack of power, they angrily came after the closest target, which was Eliot. Since there were eight of them, Eve rushed to help him. She felt a surge of speed as she punched one guy in the face and elbowed another in the gut. Stone jumped into the fray with more enthusiasm than skill.

Ignoring both the fight and the murmurs, Sophie continued speaking. “There are those among you that can still work magic. Some of them were part of a group called the True Robes, a group dedicated to bringing your society back to its original purpose. Some of them are those who were against what the High Robes were doing but didn't dare to raise their voices. All of them are High Robes now. To show who these people are, the Quartet has added both the skeletons to their sleeves and a new symbol to their left shoulder. It is of two crossed swords. Everyone else's robes are blank.”

Stone paused to listen to her. While he was distracted, one of the desperate Robes got in a lucky punch. When Stone staggered, Eve angrily kicked the Robe in the face.

Stone felt his jaw to see if it were all in one piece. “Feel better?”

“Little bit.” She grinned fiercely.

“To you, new High Robes,” Sophie's voice was still loud and steady, “The Quartet, and the Library, is entrusting in you the most important of missions. Now that magic is loose in the world, you must work to defeat the Serpent Brotherhood. It is your duty to fight it with everything that you have.”

By the time she stepped back and turned, Eliot was knocking out the last of the Robes on stage. Her eyes widened at the pile of unconscious bodies, but she just nodded in acceptance. Then she frowned and looked down, remembering her near nakedness. Eve wondered if that had been some of what kept her audience captivated.

Sophie gave a little half smile and drew the sides of her robe closed, tying it with the sash.

“I think it's done,” she said.

Eve looked out over the crowd where the new High Robes were starting to round up those now without magic. “I think you're right.”

“Okay,” Stone said, still rubbing his jaw. “I'll tell Parker and Mark that they can come out of hiding.”

She absently waved a hand at him in agreement. Cassandra, Ezekiel, and Hardison had dropped their hoods and were trying to get her attention. Chaos swirled around them, and Eve suddenly realized they were wearing plain, dusky robes. 

“And somebody should probably inform the mob that Cassandra, Ezekiel, and Hardison are with us.” 

XXX

“What a day, huh?” Cassie commented from where she was sitting cross-legged on the floor.

The eight of them were all sitting back in the room that had been their prison for days. It was a nice room despite its function, and they decided to spend one more night there before Molly took them to the village so they could catch a ride somewhere with cell access. From there, they'd be able to call Jenkins and get him to set them up a doorway to go home.

“I don't know,” Baird said, leaning back in the big chair and stretching out her legs. “Seems like just another day at the office to me.”

After the Quartet stripped the bad guys of their power, the eight of them had helped Mark and his new High Robes to create order. Jake knew that Baird was satisfied that things had been resolved in a way that would please both the Library and Jenkins. Sophie, Eliot, Parker, and Hardison had done remarkable work despite being new to magic and the Library.

“We made a good team,” he added, thinking of the way Hardison had worked with Cassandra and Sophie had worked with him. He still didn't know how he felt about her, but Heart had chosen her well. No one else in their group could have done what she did at the sacrifice.

He glanced at her. She was curled up comfortably in the other big chair, her arm resting on Eliot's thigh. Eliot was perched on the arm beside her, his expression a little less grim than usual.

“It was fun,” Parker agreed. She was also on the floor, lying down and leaning on her elbows. Her legs were crossed at the ankles.

“Yeah, if you count almost getting sacrificed as fun,” Eliot told her.

“Oh, stop whining. You lived, didn't you?”

“So, what do we do now?” Sophie asked, tilting her head slightly. “Pretend all this never happened?”

“But magic is real, Sophie. How can we pretend we don't know?” Parker sounded almost like a little girl.

“Not to mention your new voodoo,” Hardison added.

“We're not keeping that,” Jake and Eliot said at the same time.

“What?”

“You saw them, Hardison. You saw what this thing did to them. Power corrupts,” Eliot told them.

“A Librarian couldn't have said it better.” Baird sat up straighter. “If we kept our connection to the artifacts, over time, we could become what we just fought against.”

“And this power needs to stay here,” Jake added. “These guys need it to fight the Serpent Brotherhood.”

Parker looked at Sophie. “Sophie?”

Sophie shrugged. “I don't really need it, Parker.”

Parker and Hardison shared a look showing they just didn't understand.

“It's like you're giving up the power to be Superman,” Hardison said.

“Or Wonder woman,” Parker echoed.

“Would you want anyone else to go through what we went through?” Cassandra asked.

“I guess not.”

“We've already talked to Mark about finding suitable replacements,” Baird said with finality.

“And Mind has promised to break the connections when we leave.” Jake met Parker's eyes. She sighed and let it go.

“I won't be sorry to see the last of this place,” Sophie changed the subject.

“You and me both,” Baird agreed.

“But it was very nice to meet you.” Sophie smiled. “Your team has an interesting dynamic.”

“And somehow it seems to work.”

“I know just what you mean.” She elbowed Eliot gently, and he grunted.

“I'm glad the four of you were here to help.”

“Oh!” Parker said excitedly. “Maybe we can work together again someday.”

“That wouldn't be completely terrible,” Jones said.

“No, not terrible,” Baird agreed.

XXX

Eliot regarded his cousin from across the table. It was after hours, and the brew pub was quiet and dark. Everyone had left--Sophie to go home to Nate, Hardison and Parker to his apartment, and the other Librarians back to the Library. Jake had stayed behind, and now they sat together with both a table and two beers between them.

Jake looked tired but satisfied. There was none of the old sadness in his face, and his eyes were unshuttered.

“It was great to see you,” Eliot said, taking a sip of his beer.

“We should do some stuff. Darts. Poker. Bar fights.”

“Now that we're both in Portland, there's no excuse not to.”

“No.” Jake looked down at his drink.

“What is it?”

“I wish that I had told you.”

“About the brains or about the magic?”

Jake looked up and smiled, a real smile. “You pick.”

Eliot shook his head. “There's a lot I never told you. I was afraid you'd be disappointed in me.”

“Nah. Never disappointed. You're the only family I got. I was worried about you for awhile.”

“It's better now. For both of us.”

“I'll drink to that.”

“Me, too.” It was Eliot's turn to smile. He raised his glass. “To change.”

Jake clinked his against it. “And to finally doing what's right instead of what's easy.”

They each took a drink, and Eliot felt warmth that had nothing to do with the alcohol go through his chest. It had been one hell of a week—he'd been kidnapped, been tortured, learned to talk with a magical figurine and how to use its magic, and saved the world. And, now, he was having a beer with his cousin. What could be better than that?


End file.
